


Carry On to Danny Street

by poutychismosa



Category: Doom Patrol (TV), Supernatural
Genre: ASL, Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Biting, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Dean Winchester, Cannabis, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Coming Out, Communication, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancing, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester Uses Actual Words, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Everybody Lives, Explicit Sexual Content, Eye Contact, Finale? What Finale?, Fix-It, Fluff, Gender Identity, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Idiots in Love, Insecurity, Internalized Homophobia, Intimacy, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kissing, Laughter During Sex, Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, Lube, M/M, Newly Human Castiel (Supernatural), Non-Binary Sam Winchester, None of them sing only OCs, Oral Sex, Playlist, Praise Kink, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Salonpas, Sex Is Fun, Shower Sex, Singing, Slow Burn, Smut, Snacks & Snack Food, Tiger Balm, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Unprotected Sex, condoms are there but not used, for pain, i don't make the rules, if cw has the arrowverse that means supernatural exists in the DC universe, not as lube don't worry, people die but only bigots so I don't count them, song fic adjacent, worship in general really, yes I made them talk, yes they smoke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29323854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poutychismosa/pseuds/poutychismosa
Summary: He thought it was supposed to get easier after Chuck. His focus had been so intensely on anything else than the one thing he should be thinking about. It was easier that way. So much easier. Because thinking about it, about him, that made things hard.Sam and Dean investigate a string of disappearances that lead them to Danny St.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 18
Collections: Their Love Was Real: a Destiel & Saileen Fanworks Challenge





	Carry On to Danny Street

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfiction in over a decade but then CW attacked. I haven't watched the show in several years but got sucked back in after 15x18. This is the result. This fic was written with a playlist that is synced up to average reading speeds. You don't have to listen to it to understand what's going on but there are lyrical Easter eggs hidden throughout. The playlist is available on three platforms. 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6DeViH4rAbJ827lm62SfOE?si=T1ZXcPsvQk6VEGzXIi245w
> 
> https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLgKFdcHLXD7oChYdnjS0VS8axKiqwNZ6p
> 
> https://music.amazon.com/user-playlists/1b5c8c10cb8e4a1eb135f5b9f821a71esune?ref=dm_sh_ee06-4bc2-3db5-8f9f-a6b48

He thought it was supposed to get easier after Chuck. His focus had been so intensely on anything else than the one thing he should be thinking about. It was easier that way. So much easier. Because thinking about it, about him, that made things hard.

_ ‘Why did it have to be so hard?’ _

It wasn’t fair, really. Not to him. That whole stunt was such bullshit. Confessing his love to immediately leave? Leave again like he always did? 

_ ‘I fucking hate when you leave.’ _

No. No point on thinking about it if nothing can be done about it. So Dean doesn’t think about it.

But then they win. 

Against the odds like always, the Winchesters managed, with help, to leave Chuck for dead and Jack with the highest responsibility in the universe. They were free. Free of Chuck and his terrible writing. Free of the chains to a page and destiny they weren’t allowed to choose. They celebrated, of course. Jack had left quickly but the brothers made sure to toast him in his absence. Several pizzas, boxed pies, and bottles were in the bunker, the pair stuffing their faces to their heart's content, as the radio blared loudly. It was perfect. Exactly what Dean needed. A distraction from the past few days, weeks, months, years, God years of the what the fuck that was their lives. 

“Pizza, pie, and pints!” Sam had joyfully shouted at him. 

Eventually, though, their age caught up to them and they decided to head to bed.

Trying to ignore a thought that’s creeping in the background while all alone in his bed in the dark proved to be impossible. It was all Dean could think about. That’s even how he thought about it. As it. The whole situation was it. It had to be it because if it wasn’t it it was -  _ Cas  _ \- him. It was him and his choices and his words. The entire interaction up to the horrible end just kept replaying in his head. Cas in front of him, teary, and saying words Dean thought couldn’t have had meaning to him. And what did Dean do?

_ ‘Just stood there stupid like a fuckin’ coward.’ _

And then Cas was gone. And Dean was alone. As he was after everything. He laid in his bed alone and thought and thought for what felt like hours before he noticed his ears were wet. Rubbing furiously at his eyes he scolded himself. ‘ _ Stop being such a baby.’  _ Dean sat up with a huff, followed by quick shallow breaths, and suddenly his tear ducts decided not to cooperate. He shoved his fist in his mouth quickly, biting down firmly but not hard enough to break skin. Whimpers and sobs fell silently into flesh as Dean shook. 

He hated himself more with each hitch. 

_ ‘You’re fine. You’re fine. Stop it. You’re fine.’ _ This was his process. Muffle everything, every breath, every emotion, and tell himself he was fine until he believed it.

Or until he fell asleep. Whichever came first.

Nine times out of ten it was sleep that won. But not tonight. Unlike all the other nights he spent weeping into his knuckles, the shuddering gasps and pained whines wouldn’t subside. It was like he was being consumed by it, the ache and sting of every moment leading up to this. He really tried. He’d always managed to do alright when they were kids. He never woke Sam before, taking care to wait until the snores from the side bed were at their peak.

But this isn’t like other nights. 

Before he can stop it, a wail manages to make it past his teeth and hand barrier. Both hands flew to his mouth quickly, holding back anything further as Dean hoped Sam was still asleep.

No such luck. 

“Dean?” Sam’s panicked voice cut through the dark. His cell phone flashlight guided him over to Dean’s bed. It was there he found him, his big brother, curled in a ball, clutching his mouth for dear life. Dean was a wreck. The part of his face that wasn’t covered by tensely white hands was bright red. The skin around his eyes were raw and puffy. 

Sam turned off his flashlight and sat down quickly. “Hey, hey, talk to me, what’s wrong?” He gently placed his hand on Dean’s knee. He flinched at the contact. Sam watched him patiently. Dean seemed to somehow curl tighter into himself and said nothing. “Please,” Sam said in a small voice, “please talk to me. You haven’t been the same since... “ Sam watched as Dean hitched at the unsaid end to his sentence. Sam rubbed his face with his hand and sighed. “You can’t keep bottling all this shit up, Dean. It’s not healthy. I can’t stand it. So, please, can we please talk about this?”

Dean slowly unclenched his hands from his mouth, deciding to press the heels of his wrist into his forehead. He wondered if there were any rebar he could fall onto and put himself out of his misery nearby. He tried to breathe in deeply and hiccuped instead. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. “Do I have to?” He hated how weak he sounded.

“You know we do.” Sam reached over and turned on the lamp. “There, now that I can actually see you and I’m not half asleep, spill it.” He poked the backs of Dean’s hands. When they didn’t move he continued poking, tapping into his special evil younger sibling powers, trying to annoy his way through. It worked, Dean eventually swiped at him.

“Quit it!”

Sam grabbed Dean’s wrist on the downswing. He jutted his head slightly forward, “Talk,” his tongue clicking loudly on the “k”.

“Fine, fuck, fine!” Dean snatched his arm back from Sam’s loose grip.

Sam gave him a moment to pout. Just a moment. “What didn’t you tell me about Cas getting taken into the Empty?”

“Not pulling a single punch, are ya, Sammy?” Dean croaked. His throat was sore and dry. He grabbed the cup of water he had thankfully remembered to put by his bedside and began to take deep gulps.

“That doesn’t answer my question. And slow down, you’ll give yourself a stomach ache.” Sam shifted, pretzeling his long legs to sit at attention, waiting for Dean to explain.

Dean ignored him, finishing the glass. He set it down and took a deep, steadying breath. “Cas was taken because he made a deal.” 

Sam nodded. “You mentioned that. What was the deal?”

Dean clenched his jaw. “The Empty got to have him when he experienced true happiness.” He looked at Sam bitterly.

“And that was?” Sam prodded, ignoring the tone.

“Cas’ happiest moment?”

“Obviously.”

Dean barked out a harsh laugh. “It was him telling me he loved me. Right at that moment. And I didn’t have the stones to even say it back before he was gone.” His voice broke on the last word. Fresh tears began to fall and he rubbed at them, trying to catch them before they traveled too far. He felt himself being pulled into an embrace. He tensed and struggled at first but Sam held tight, placing chin on Dean’s head and forcing him to stay put. Dean slowly stopped struggling and instead allowed himself to weep.

Sam waited for the loudest of the sounds to pass before he decided to speak. Choosing his words carefully, he spoke softly. “It’s understandable that you didn’t say it back at the time. It wasn’t exactly the best time to suddenly have someone you’ve known for years drop a bomb like that.”

“But-”

“No buts. This will-they-won’t-they you two have had shouldn’t have ended like that.” 

Dean pulled out of Sam’s embrace to stare at him. 

“What? I have eyes. I’m not dumb, Dean. I just figured you’d talk to me when you were ready. I didn’t expect this to be the way we address this.” Sam looked so tired. He was so tired. He was tired from all the work they did and the hell they’ve gone through. He was tired of people dying. He was tired of his brother not talking to him. He was exhausted.

Dean hung his head and swallowed. “I wish it wasn’t. I wish I’d just manned up and talked. But I didn’t. I just pushed through the days. Maybe someone else would just figure it out and I wouldn’t have to.” He took in a shuddering breath. “And before I knew it, there we were and there he wasn’t.”

Sam sat silently, waiting for Dean to continue. 

“I just shoved it all away. Hoping I’d eventually forget about it. But I can’t. And it hurts,” his eyes were welling again, “it hurts so much it feels like I’m dying. And there’s nothing I can do about it. He’s gone.”

A considerable pause passed between them. Sam placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I don’t have anything I can say that can make you feel better. I wish I did. And I’m sorry. This sucks.” Sam unpretzeled and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “It’s not fair and you deserve better.”

Dean smiled weakly at his brother. He felt slightly better. Like a small rock was removed from the boulder on his back. “Alright, no more mushy crap, go back to your own bed.” Sam rose and ruffled his hand in Dean’s hair playfully. Dean punched him in his side. “Don’t be a bitch.”

Sam just chuckled as he walked away. “Night, jerk”

\-----

Sam got a hit a week later. Before Dean was up for breakfast, Sam had compiled years worth of articles regarding disappearances. Dean made himself some toast as Sam filled him in. “So out in Oklahoma some people have gone missing. All different people, different classes, races, genders, seemingly nothing connecting them, right?” Dean nodded at him. “There’s the fun part. Apparently, in all these separate cities and towns there was something in common, a woman.”

“A woman? Like a human one or…?” Dean moved to look over the documents Sam procured.

“Not sure. All I know is,” Sam squinted at his notes and read them aloud, “that she’s a tall woman of color with large blonde hair. And that she’s been spotted in Oklahoma. And upon some digging, discovered Oklahoma isn’t her first appearance. Ohio, Georgia, Texas. She drops off for a bit and then pops back up. She doesn’t cause any noise while she’s out, either. But after night falls, come morning, people are missing. Within a few days she’s gone.”

“Alright, do we know where she might strike next, is there some kind of pattern?” Dean flipped through the different pictures of the woman. Almost all of them are blurry, making the features hard to define. Sam wasn’t kidding, though. Her hair was large.

“I was waiting for you to ask. She’s crossed the border and been spotted in Kansas. Cottonwood Falls.” He turned his laptop towards Dean, pulling up a video. “Some kid posted this this morning.” 

The video showed a tall woman in high heeled boots from behind, a person in front of her in a hoodie, obscuring their face. The woman handed them something, which was promptly shoved into a pocket, before walking away, the camera zooming in. A gaggle of prepubescent boys joked in the background, referring to the woman as a freak, making fun of her hair, her boots, the bright yellow cloak and matching dress she wore. The video ended on a still blurry but still better image of the woman’s face. Her full lips were covered with a deep red lipstick, cheeks reddened with heavy rouge, her eyeshadow resembling a sunset. “This was taken outside of a Dollar General. About an hour ago.”

“Alright, what are we waiting for.”

The pair loaded Baby and made their way west.

\----

It was surprisingly easy to find the woman. 

When the men arrived they simply drove around for a while, searching. Lady luck smiled upon them when they passed Keller Feed & Wine Company. The woman had stopped a man outside and was speaking to him about something. He had a confused look on his face. She handed him a piece of paper, said something else, and turned and walked away. The man looked at the paper for a moment, checked to see if anyone was around, before shoving the paper into his wallet and hurrying in the other direction. The pair, hidden in Baby slightly up the road, looked at each other with scrunched faces.

“What do you think that paper says?” Dean asked.

“Could be anything. Blackmail, a spell, a phone number, take your pick.” Sam watched the woman, slowly getting further from the car and turned, seeing the man doing the same. “How about we follow them before they get too far? I call dibs on the local.”

“Fine by me. I’mma catch up to Not-So-Little Miss Sunshine.”

They left the car to follow their respective targets.

\-----

Dean kept as close as he could without being noticed to the woman in yellow. She strut down the street, turning heads as she did so. She would stop periodically, at a gas station for a bottle of water and a bag of peanuts, peering through various shop windows. The woman walked all over town, eventually passing a blacktop where children were playing.

Well, you couldn’t really call it playing.

A gaggle of five children stood on the blacktop, a painted box beneath four of them. ‘ _ Kid’s still play four square?’  _ One child stood out from the rest. She was a small thing, likely younger than the others, around 8 or 9. She stood on the side of the box with her head down. As one child was unable to catch the ball when it was passed to them, they left their box and traded spots with the girl. She tossed the ball down to the child across from her in the square. That child, a boy that looked to be about 12, proceeded to slam the ball down on the blacktop so hard that it was impossible for the girl to have caught it. It flew over her head and she simply turned and retrieved the ball. The kid that had been out earlier reclaimed their spot. This cycle continued for a bit. One of the kids would get out, never the big kid, Dean noticed, the little girl would take the spot, throw him the ball, and then walk to get the ball which flew over her head. Dean didn’t realize how close he had gotten to the blacktop, to the woman who had stopped to stare at the children. He only noticed when the woman brushed past him, walking over to the kids. Momentarily shocked, he walked to catch up with her, worried about what she was doing. She was walking like she was on a mission.

She stopped, cocked her hip, and put her hands on her waist. “Now, I know I did not see what I think I saw,” her voice a gravely but still soft baritone. Dean stopped a few paces away. The little girl looked up to the woman in awe. “Back when I was a kid, cherry-bombing someone back to back was punishable by a wet willie.” 

The kids in the square just stared at her. The 12 year old narrowed his eyes. “Go away, freak, no one asked you.” The children, except for the little girl, began to laugh.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” The woman bent down to look him in the eyes, her tone cold. “You wanna hear what I think is funny?”

Shit.

“It’s so funny that you’re being mean to this girl. Why is that, Benny?” The boy, Benny, paled. “Is it because she broke your favorite toy? Ate the last fudge pop?” The woman paused for a moment, bringing a finger to her cheek. “Hmmm, maybe it’s because of what she knows?” Benny squeaked. “Yeah, that’s it. And do you know how I know that?” A twisted joy started to seep into her words.

The boy turned to the girl, his face beet red. “Did you squeal, you little-”

The woman snapped her fingers in the boy's face, “She didn’t need to tell me anything, sweetie.” She straightened to her full height, towering over the child. “This freak has got some freaky little talents. Knowing secrets is just one.” The children had all slowly begun to have fear seep onto their faces. All except the little girl, who, Dean saw, had stars in her eyes. “Now, I don't mean to make demands, but unless all you good little children want your friends to know all your dirty laundry, you’ll be leaving this little girl alone. Am I understood?” 

The children all nodded. 

“Good. Now scram.” She pointed a well manicured finger toward some houses. The children fled, except for the little girl. She stayed right by the woman’s side as everyone cleared out. The woman turned and crouched down to look the girl in the eye. Her features switched to one more soothing. “I don’t know how long that’ll hold them off but that should help you out for a little bit, okay, Rosie?” Dean could see her face a bit more clearly, a strong jawline, a broad nose that was impeccably contoured, complimented well by high cheekbones. 

_ ‘Wait, is she…?’ _

“How do you know my name?” Rosie was looking at the woman like she had just met Santa.

The woman laughed loudly and deeply. “I told you, silly, my talent is knowing things. But allow me to formally introduce myself.” She rose from her crouched position to then dramatically curtsey, extending her hand. “I am Maura Lee, Little Miss Rosie. And I know many things. I know about you.” She returned to the crouch. “I know things have been hard lately. And that you and Benny haven’t been getting along.” Rosie’s smile dimmed. “But I need you to know that he’s going to need you. He may be mean now, but knowing what we know, he’ll need someone in his corner. And it has to be you, okay?”

Rosie pouted and her eyes looked watery. Looking at her more closely, Dean could see deep circles and already developed frown lines. It gave him a chill. “But he wouldn’t do the same thing for me.” She whispered, Dean barely able to hear her.

Maura Lee took Rosie’s hands in hers. “It looks that way, doesn’t it? But he will. He will when you need it. You two have quite the journey ahead of you. But I’ve already said too much. I just need you to trust me.” She squeezed Rosie’s hands. “If you just trust me, Rosie, it’ll all be alright.”

“Promise?”

“I’d wager my boots on it and these puppies cost Rockafeller money.” The name rolled off Maura’s tongue, coming out more like Rockafella. Rosie cocked her head, confused. “Do they not teach y’all kids ‘bout the Rockafeller’s?” Rosie shrugged. Maura sighed and waved her hand, shooing away her reference. “Doesn’t matter. What does matter, Rosie, is to just be you. The sweet and caring little girl that you are. If you can do that, you just might see me again.”

“Why do you gotta go?”

“To help more people just like you. And just like Benny. I help all kinds of people, baby girl. And when you two grow up, I’ll be able to help you even more. Just don’t forget about what I told you. The time will fly before you know it. Now, you gotta run on home. Benny’s waiting down the block.” Rosie looked down the road, Benny peering around a building and then swiftly hiding. She turned back to Maura, sighed, then nodded. Maura gave her hands one last squeeze before she dropped them. Rosie turned to walk away before she decided against it, rushing into Maura’s arms instead. She whispered something into Maura’s ear, which was responded to with a tight hug. Rosie detached from the embrace and smiled at Maura before leaving to join Benny.

Dean wasn’t sure how to process the past several minutes.

“I was wondering when you’d get close enough to talk to. You’re bad at following people, Dean.” Maura didn’t even look at him. She was standing now, still watching where Rosie and Benny had been.

“How-” Dean started.

“You already know how.” She turned to face him and he was able to see all of Maura Lee’s glory. She smiled at him and cocked her head, “Didn’t expect such a cutie though.” Dean bristled at this and Maura let out a hearty laugh.

“What are you doing with those people? The ones you’re taking.” Dean slowly began to reach for the knife he had on his belt.

“I don’t answer questions for mean boys with sharps. I’m not going to eat you, so stop reaching for that knife.” Maura told him, dryly. Her smile still remained on her face but now it was just cocky.

Dean cocked a brow at her before he raised his arms, palms out.

“Better. We don’t take anyone. We help people. And since you and Sam are- don’t give me that face, lookin like you’ve been constipated for days.” 

Dean hadn’t realized his eyes were bugging out of his skull. 

“Anyway,” She continued, stressing her syllables, “since you two will be coming tonight, I’m going to give you this.” Maura stuck her hand into her pocket and produced a piece of paper. She held it out for Dean to take. He tentatively took it from her.

On it in bold bright letters was: Peeping Tom’s Perpetual Cabaret 8PM Danny Street, Cottonwood Falls.

Dean’s phone began to buzz. He looked up to see he was alone. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Sammy.”

“Hey, I’m outside that guy's house, he’s been inside for a bit so I don’t think he’s leaving anytime soon. Anything on the woman?”

“Uh, yeah. I actually talked to her.” Dean could feel the look Sam was undoubtedly wearing through the phone.

“Okay, what is she then? Human?” He finally sputtered out.

Dean examined the paper again. “Well… she’s by no means average.”

\-----

Getting back to the car and to Sam’s location ate up the rest of the daylight. Sam had tracked the man all the way to a mobile home park. The houses looked nicer than some of the trailers he had seen in his travels. Each trailer had a small patch of well manicured lawn. Dean found Sam hiding near the woods at the outskirts of the park. He slid into the passenger seat and pointed straight ahead.

“The guy lives a bit of the way down, the house that’s a little bit further away from everyone else. ” Sam started clicking away at his laptop.

Dean drove the short way down. Once he found the house he reversed and backed Baby into the nearby trees. “So what’d you find out ‘bout this guy?”

Sam clicked away at the keys for a moment longer before pulling up a document. “Name’s Theodore Stenhouse III. He has just finished his masters in history and is currently living at home after graduating. His father, Theodore II, owns the park. Mom, Amy, is an office manager at a law firm. One younger sibling, Rachel, senior at the local high school. By all accounts normal people, couldn’t dig up anything suspicious.”

Dean sighed. “I’m not surprised.”

“So, what happened when you ran into our mystery woman?” Sam quirked an eyebrow.

Dean recounted his journey through town before he got to the blacktop. “There were these kids bullying this girl. She just walked up to them and made them stop. It was crazy, dude. One of ‘em called her a freak. I think she’s a drag queen.”

“A drag queen?”

“Yeah, she had a deep voice. And I’ve only seen drag queens can walk in shoes like that with hair that big.” Sam snorted and continued typing. “She was saying something about her talent for knowing secrets. Talked to the little girl for a bit before sending her off. I was worried she was gonna do something, at first. But she just defended Rosie.”

“Rosie?” Sam saved his files before switching back to Google. “The little girl?”

“Yeah.” Dean chuckled. “She knew her name. Even introduced herself to the kid all proper like she was royalty or some shit. I’d almost call it cute. Name’s Maura Lee.” Sam quickly started clicking away at the keys. “She knew I was there the whole time. And knew my name.”

The clicking abruptly stopped. “Uh, how did she know your name? Did you get demon vibes or anything?”

“No, I don’t think she’s a demon. Not really hostile either. She said that they don’t take people, they help them.” Dean looked skeptical.

“We’ll be the judge of that.” Sam’s face mirrored his brother’s.

“Exactly. She also knew we’d be coming tonight? Then gave me this.” Dean pulled the paper out and handed it to Sam. Dean pointed at him when his face scrunched up in confusion. “I had the same reaction. Then she was gone.”

“No, my confusion is more based on the fact that Cottonwood Falls doesn’t have a Danny St. I’ve practically memorized the map.” Sam pulled up Google Maps and typed in the address. Nothing came up. “See?”

Dean shrugged. “Guess we’re just going to have to wait for Teddy in there to head out. Anything on Maura Lee?”

Sam huffed, annoyed. “Nope. She’s good at hiding, that’s for sure.” He closed the laptop. “We have about an hour until he should be leaving. And since you’re stuck here with me, we’re gonna continue our conversation from last week.”

Dean groaned loudly. “Come on, man. Can you just let me repress everything and get an ulcer like everyone else?”

“It’s 2020, Dean. Everyone goes to therapy. We don’t really have that luxury right now so I’m the next best thing. I'm getting you to talk, even if it takes all night. When did it happen?” Sam lolled his head to the side and looked at Dean expectantly. 

“When did what happen?”

“You realizing you were in love with Cas.”

“…”

“Don’t tell me it was when he-”

“Shut up.”

Sam pressed his lips together into a tight line for a moment. “Have you considered talking to Jack?”

Dean stared straight ahead through the windshield. “He’s busy.”

“But have you tried-”

“Of course I tried!” Dean yelled. “He left so fast. He’s busy. No response.” Dean stewed for a moment before punching the steering wheel. “Fuck!” He threw his door open and started getting out the car.

“Where are you going?” Sam started to reach toward him.

Dean swatted Sam’s hand. “To take a leak.” He closed (slammed) the door and walked into the trees.

Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew Dean was coming back eventually, they were on a hunt after all, so he tried to tactically formulate exactly how he was going to do this. Sam’s used to this, the putting up walls the minute he starts chipping at things. 

It doesn’t make it any less annoying. 

There isn’t a guidebook on how to get your emotionally constipated brother to open up. He started to fidget as he tried to put together a list of potential questions for Dean that won’t send him flying again. He didn’t have long to plan as Dean soon slid back into his seat. Sam looked over at his brother, watching his face. Dean was pouting slightly, his eyes were baggy and a bit red rimmed. 

Sam wondered if that leak he took was for his bladder or his face. His lips pursed. It was now or never, deep breath. “Dean, you know you’re allowed to be happy, right?” 

Dean snapped his head toward Sam, giving him a look. 

Sam continued. “You’re allowed to be happy and stable and loved. You have such a block seeing when people do that, offer you happiness, stability, or love. I know it’s because of Dad,” Dean’s eye twitched at that but Sam continued, not allowing for interruption. “We’re both royally screwed up from Dad, but Dean… Dean you wear your heart on your sleeve, and that’s okay. You love people and they love you, too, and that’s okay.” Sam stressed the last word. “You’re worthy of other people caring about you. And I need you to stop beating yourself up about what happened with Cas. Not because you should forget about it. But because Cas showed you he loved you in the most powerful way he should and he deserves to be remembered for that. Don’t remember him just for what could have been's. It’ll eat you alive.” 

Dean turned away, refusing to look Sam in the eye. 

“You’re not giving me the silent treatment right now. Listen, Dean, I get that we’re damaged people but that doesn’t mean we’re supposed to keep shoving everything away and keep getting broken.”

“I’m not giving you the silent treatment. I’m fine.”

“Fine? ‘Fine’ is easy, when you fake it.” 

“What do you want me to say, Sam?” Dean spat out. “That I know that I have problems talking about my feelings and don’t know how to have these conversations? That I have worse daddy issues than Lucifer? That I was too chicken shit to accept Ca-” The name lodged in his throat but he trudged past it. “His feelings for me because I could hear is Dad in my head? Telling me I wasn’t worth shit. Telling me I was wrong. Telling me I was some fairy? Is that what you want to hear?”

“Yes!” Sam screamed. “Yes, that is exactly what I want to hear because at least it means you’re talking to me about what’s going on. Yes, because I can actually try to help you stop listening to the voices in your head. They’re liars. And if it’s Dad’s voice in your head, you should know that.” Sam rubbed at his face. “I’ve heard all of those exact same things since I could remember. It’s stuck on loop. There’s not a way to turn it off. But if you stop listening, it stops being so loud.”

Dean looked over to Sam. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked. He eventually found what he was looking for. “What do you mean by ‘those exact same things’, Sammy?”

Sam sucked in a breath. “We’re talking about you not me. Don’t deflect.”

“I’m not deflecting, Sam, I want to know what you meant.” He wasn’t going to let this go.

“You are totally deflecting! This conversation was about you being in love with Cas, not about my shit.” Sam’s voice went up a bit in pitch.

Well, that just pissed Dean off. He knew that Sam was trying to call foul to avoid his own problems. He saw exactly how annoying it was. He’d tell Sam sorry for it later. For now, however, Dean didn’t waver. “We discussed my problems. I’m in love with Cas and am now a Bi icon with communication problems. What. Did. You. Mean?”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “You finally said it.”

“What?”

“That you were Bi. You finally said it.”

“Now who’s deflecting?” 

Sam’s mouth clapped shut. He started and stopped attempting sentences repeatedly before settling on, “It’s hard to explain.”

Dean checked the time. “We don’t have to leave for a little bit longer so maybe you can try?”

Sam crossed his arms and groaned. He knew he’d have to have this conversation eventually but he wasn’t exactly prepared to do it now. “Fine. I’m not a guy. Kinda.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “Huh? What does that mean? Are you a girl then?” 

“No. Definitely not a girl.” Sam shook his head. “The term is non-binary.”

Okay, now Dean was just confused. “Non-what-ery?”

Sam rubbed his temples. “Non-binary.”

“Can you explain this to me like I’m five.”

Sam stared at Dean for a moment before registering he was serious. The annoyance that was roaring in him started to die down. “You obviously know how there’s men and women.” 

Dean nodded. 

“And how transgender people exist.” 

Dean nodded again.

“Well, sometimes people aren’t either of those things. Sometimes they feel only partially like one or the other or both. Since they don’t feel fully like a guy or a girl they don’t fit in with only two options so they pick other ones. I don’t fit.”

Dean blinked a few times, processing. He didn’t know much about this stuff. He only recently realized that some of the things he’s said and believed about that community were harmful. He felt guilt creeping up to mingle with his confusion. He decided to choose his words carefully. “Okay. Where do you fit, then?”

Sam chewed on his lip as he thought about how exactly he’d explain it. “Put your fingers out like this.” Sam positioned his pointer fingers upward, holding them a bit away from each other. Dean quirked an eyebrow but obliged. Sam pointed at Deans left hand. “Say this is men,” he then pointed to the right, “and this is women.” Sam pointed across the space. “This empty space is like a scale. People can fall onto different areas of the scale,” Sam started pointing at random spots in the area between Dean’s hands, “Or completely outside of it.” Sam started pointing outside the area. He could see the confusion creeping back onto Dean’s face. That was to be expected, Sam didn’t think Dean would learn gender theory in a night. “All you need to know is I fall about here.” Sam pointed at a space a few inches from his left hand. 

Dean looked at the space for a moment before dropping his hands. “I don’t know if I entirely get it. But, at the end of the day I’m still your big brother so…” He wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence, deciding to just shrug instead.

Sam let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That talk went better than expected.”

“What? Did you think it would go bad? Is that why you waited to tell me?” Dean didn’t like that. He didn’t like the idea of Sam thinking he wouldn’t be okay with this.

“No!” Sam said quickly. “No. I was just… I’ve been afraid…”

“Of?”

“Changing. Me changing, our relationship changing because of me changing. It’s scary, dude.”

“What’s there to be scared of? You’re still you, how are you changing?” 

Sam let out a small laugh, “You know, now that I’m saying it, it sounds stupid.”

“Hey,” Dean punched Sam in the shoulder. “It’s not stupid.”

Sam rubbed his shoulder with a grimace. “Fine, it’s not stupid, Don’t punch me again. Only thing changing right now is pronouns.”

“English, poindexter.” 

Sam rubbed at his temples. “Pronouns are Eng- you know what, it doesn’t matter. You know how when you talk about me you call me he or him?” 

“Yeah?”

“Well you can still say that but you can also say they or them.” Sam shrugged.

“Oh.” Dean looked at Sam for a moment. “Okay. That it?” Sam nodded. “That’s the least confusing thing you’ve said tonight!” Dean broke out in a large grin. Sam couldn’t help the belly laugh that came out. Dean roughly rubbed at Sam’s head, not quite hard enough to be considered a full noogie. Sam lightly swatted at him, still chuckling. Silence soon settled between them. Dean cleared his throat. “So… when did you figure this out?”

Sam blinked at him for a moment. “Uh, a while ago.” Dean gave him a look. Sam slumped. “About a year ago.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “A year? A whole year?” Sam nodded. Dean felt anger bubbling within him. His mouth fixed into a hard line.

Sam put a hand out, “Dean, I-”

“What did I do?” Dean’s jaw was tight.

Sam brow furrowed. “What?”

“What did I do?” Dean repeated. “I obviously did something to make you feel like you couldn’t tell me. What did I do?” His nostrils flared.

Sam’s shoulders slumped with a mix of relief and sadness. “You didn’t do anything.” Dean snorted. “I’m serious. You didn’t. I haven’t… I haven’t told anyone,” Sam finished with a whisper.

The wave of self loathing began to ebb from Dean. He watched as Sam fidgeted and shirked inward. ‘ _ This isn’t about you.’ _ He rubbed at his face and sighed. “So I’m the only one that knows? Not even Eileen?”

“I'd get overwhelmed thinking about it. I didn’t know how to tell anyone." Sam paused. "It wasn’t a big deal.” Sam started chewing on his cheek.

Dean set a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “No, it’s not a big deal.” Dean hesitated for a moment. “But it’s important. Because you’re important.” 

Sam gave Dean a small smile and gently patted the hand on his shoulder. “Thanks.”

Dean gave Sam’s shoulder a light squeeze before putting his hand back on the steering wheel. He peered through the windshield to see Theodore exiting the house. He seemed to be trying to not draw attention to himself, carefully closing the door with both hands and locking it behind him. He silently crept to his car and got inside, making sure to close the door as quietly as possible. He started the car, didn’t turn on his lights and started to drive away. The pair looked at each other briefly before Dean turned the keys in the ignition. He pulled out from the trees and onto the road to follow Theodore.

“He was working really hard to make sure no one caught him leaving.” Sam pointed out.

“He lives with his parents so that makes sense.” Dean kept a reasonable distance from Theodore’s car. Once they were out of the park, Theodore’s headlights turned on. They drove along in silence, making stops and turns at different points. The wooded area made way towards the main strip. They drove through town, dark, most businesses closed for the day. Dull street lamps cast an ethereal sepia toned glow upon the sidewalks. It was simultaneously peaceful and creepy.

“We’re getting to the edge of town.”

Dean grunted in response. Theodore kept on town roads, turning occasionally. Eventually, Theodore pulled onto a dirt road. Dean pouted at the future deep clean he’ll need to do and shut off his lights. He muttered a bit about the potential damage to his shocks. He was thankful for the moon being bright and high in the sky, providing some very needed illumination. The road continued through the trees before reaching a clearing. Dean held back to not be spotted. Theodore pulled onto a bit of blacktop and parked. In the distance, a row of buildings and what seemed to be the beginnings of a new town was visible. It was brightly lit, the air around it drenched in a warm glow. Theodore got out of his car and stared for a moment. “He’s hesitating.”

Sam nodded, humming in agreement. The pair watched as Theodore took a last look at the dirt road. He huffed, his breath slightly visible in the cold, and turned to walk towards the town. “He looked pretty lucid, maybe not mind control.” They watched as Theodore got further away. “I think we’re clear.” Dean pulled the car out onto the blacktop. He wasn’t going to leave Baby parked in the dirt when he didn’t have to. Car parked, the two climbed out the vehicle, being careful to not slam the doors, just in case. They moved quickly through the clearing, managing to catch up to Theodore as he took his first steps onto a road lined with buildings, all colorfully lit. The brothers quickly scanned their surroundings. Dean nudged Sam and pointed. A green street sign was perched at the edge of the road. Danny St. “That doesn’t make sense. It’s not on the map.”

“Guess the map lied.” Dean continued on past several shops. A bakery, a grocery store, a lingerie shop. Wait. Dean paused, nearly causing Sam to crash into him. The shop featured people of all shapes and sizes and genders on their front window advertisement. Before Sam could say anything, Dean kept walking.

Theodore made his way down the street and paused when he reached the theater. In bright blinking lights, the sign for Peeping Tom’s Perpetual Cabaret was easily the source of most of the glow that could be seen from the cars. Theodore stared up at the sign and then continued into the theater. The brothers exchanged glances. “We can go back and grab some more supplies from the car.” Sam offered.

Dean shook his head. “It’s almost 8. We won’t be back on time. We have what we have.” Which wasn’t much. They walked up to the theater and looked at it’s bright red door. Giving each other one last look, they walked through the doors.

Waiting just behind was a short woman in a white suit. The brightness of her outfit accented her lightly tanned skin. Her hair was buzzed and bleached. Large earring dangled from her ears. Beneath the well tailored blazer was a black tin blouse, open to reveal her sternum and the delicate flowers with bees tattooed there. She wore a name tag which read: 

Yamaris

She/Her

She smiled brightly. “Welcome to Peeping Tom’s Perpetual Cabaret. Please, let me take you to your seats.” The pair took in their surroundings while being led through the audience. Table upon table was filled with all different kinds of people. Theodore was seated in the back. Yamaris lead them closer to the stage. Closer to someone with large blond hair.

“Dean and Sam. It’s a pleasure to see you two here. And just in time.” Maura raised a martini glass to the brothers.

“How do you-” Sam started before Dean held up a hand.

“Don’t bother.” He pulled out a chair and sat down, staring down Maura. Sam followed suit.

Maura chuckled. “I’m not going to do anything to you little boys. You were requested for a reason. But that can wait, the show is starting.”

The lights dimmed as soon as the words left her mouth. Spotlights focused on the stage. The three watched as someone walked out from behind the curtain. It was the same person Maura had given a slip of paper to earlier in the day, captured on video by some small town kids. Hoodie still up, their features were barely visible. A light piano started to play. The hooded figure, in front of the mic, began to sing. A gentle tenor voice came from the cavern of the hood.

_ I’m more than, I’m more than, I’m more than. _

No one could look away as the person raised their hands to their hood.

_ Take off all your makeup and your clothes. _

The hood wash pushed down. A face with high cheekbones and skin like the clay that's enriched with iron. They continued their performance. Slowly they began to unzip their hoodie and take it off. Next toeing off their shoes. Each movement done in perfect sync with the notes passing their lips. Sam nudged Dean, leaned over, and whispered to him. “Where do you think this is going?”

Dean didn’t answer, too focused on the person on stage and why it was so important for them to be there. Wondering what Maura’s motives are while also being thoroughly enraptured by the figure stripping on stage. They were left in just a pair of boxers and a tin t-shirt when they began to walk backwards. They were nearly touching the back curtain when they reached the instrumental break. Large swaths of sheer fabric was run across the stage by dancers dressed in black. By the time the instrumental was done, the fabric was gone and the figure emerged. 

They strutted down the stage, now dressed in a long flowing strapless red gown, the bodice snug to their chest and the neckline accentuating their collarbones. They continued their performance, the outfit change not stumbling them for a moment, belting out the final lines before ending on a hushed whisper.

_ I’m more than… _

The audience erupted with applause, the Winchesters and Maura included. The person bowed and accepted a bouquet of flowers from a very tall woman in a similar dress, only in blue. She offered her hand to aid in the performer leaving the stage. The applause died down. A light bit of filler music filled the air. Maura turned to the boys and cleared her throat. “Do you understand now what we do here?”

Both the brothers looked at her confused. Sam spoke up first. “How was that at all an explanation? What, are you hypnotizing people to keep them entertaining you for eternity or something?”

Maura actually guffawed. “Danny said you went to college. How a college boy windup with such a ridiculous conclusion.” She continued laughing. She blotted her eyes a bit before continuing. “No. We don’t hypnotize people. We don’t kidnap anyone. People are allowed to come and go as they please.”

“And why would they leave with you? What are you offering?” Dean butted in.

“Freedom.” The word left Maura’s lips tinged with a hint of sadness. She watched as the brothers exchanged a confused glance. “The person on that stage just now? Lived in hoodies and baggy clothes to hide from the world. Hide who they were. Here, they can be themselves. Be who they want to be.” Maura took another sip off her martini. “I’m sure you both understand what it’s like to not be able to be yourself at home.”

Sam barely held back a flinch. Dean’s jaw tightened. “What is this place then? If people like it here so much more than their homes.” 

This made Maura smile. “This is Danny the Street, dear Winchesters. They provide a safe haven for all the misfits and weirdos. They are my friend, and yours if you’re nice.”

Sam blinked rapidly. “So is this Danny a person or a group or..?”

Maura shook her head, very used to this question. “No. Danny is as I said. The street. But they can show up just about anywhere.” Maura paused and stared into space for a moment before checking the clock. “We can continue this after. This next performance is important.”

The brothers were about the object when the spotlights focused on stage again. The filler music has been turned off. On stage was a young man in a simple t-shirt and jeans with a guitar upon a stool. He had long braids tied up atop his head into a bun. Hazel eyes were filled with apprehension. Dean looked over, having not seen Theodore since they arrived. He was still there, in his seat in the back, stock still, shock evident on his face. Dean nudged Sam and pointed toward Theodore. “He knows him.” He whispered. Sam nodded. 

The man on stage squared his shoulders and began to strum his guitar. He stared directly at Theodore.

_ I hate this _

_ Here I am running into you trying not to touch _

The man continued his song. As it goes on he was joined by drums and-

“Is that a banjo?” Dean whispered to Sam.

The man conveyed mountains of hurt and longing as he croons on. When Dean looks again, Theodore is standing. 

_ 'Cause I know, we said, we'd just be friends _

_ I can't lie and I can't pretend _

_ Boy, I've tried it, bottom line _

_ Is I still love you and I hate this _

Sam notices Theodore as well and pokes Dean, raising his eyebrows. The man just keeps on, focused entirely on Theodore, like the rest of the audience isn’t there. The song reaches the bridge, the man gradually gets louder, a smooth crescendo to a flawless projection that could rival a professional. Theodore slowly made his way to the stage. The notes flowed from the man's mouth without pause, still watching. As the song reached its end, very faintly, Theodore’s voice joined the man.

_ Acting like it's not killing me when it does _

The audience didn’t immediately begin their applause, waiting to see what was about to happen. The man sat on his chair and looked at Theodore. Theodore swiveled his head around, looking into every face that was staring at him before settling back on the man on stage. He raised his arm and held his hand out. The man on stage smiled and took it. The audience exploded. The two men walked away from the stage, hand in hand.

“Do you get it now?” Maura piped up as the clapping died down again. They really didn’t but nodded anyway. “Good.”

Sam rose from the table. “I need to use the bathroom. I won’t get kidnapped or murdered if I do, right?”

Maura barked out a laugh. “Nah, that’s too much work right now. Gotta save your strength for later.” Sam’s eyebrows creased before he walked in the direction of a restroom sign. “He’s a funny one. Danny didn’t tell me he was funny.”

Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “So where is this Danny?” 

Maura sighed. “Danny is everywhere. They’re here right now. You just have to look.”

Dean raised an eyebrow but started to look around. He settled on the section of stage closest to him. He watched as the lights began to change, forming into words. 

_ Good to see you, Dean. _

Dean jumped back and looked around. He turned to Maura who simply raised her hands up. “What kind of trick is this?” The light reflecting on the stage began to change again.

_ I am no trick. _

“Okay, then what are you?” Dean challenged.

_ I am the street. The roadway. I can travel anywhere I please. Provide shelter for those in need. _

Maura cleared her throat. “Sorry to cut this short but it’s about to be our cue.”

_ Maura is correct. We will discuss more later. _

Dean sputtered but could ultimately do nothing as the words of light disappeared. He looked and noticed Sam wasn’t back yet. Maura rose from her seat. The lights focused on her so suddenly Dean jumped. A mic slowly lowered from the ceiling right into Maura’s hand. She winked at Dean as the music began. A poppy number that was very clearly a genre Dean did not generally travel into. ‘ _ Is that disco? _ ’ ABBA was the only exception.

Maura smiled as the first words left her.

_ You set me free every time your hands on me, _

_ I wanna be your way and shine _

Maura started to walk away from the table, a rush of people came from the stage. People dressed in green and blue full body jumpsuits. Every sleeve and bottom was belled. The fabric glittered in the light. Each jumpsuit had a hood that was attached to the blank faced glitter masks each person wore. Once in place they moved in sink, fawning as Maura sang on. They fluidly danced, slowly fanning out into the audience. Perfectly timed spins and hip sways accentuated every line.

One of the dancers, one of the green ones, made their way to Dean. They moved with ease in time with the beat. The dancer stuck a hand out to Dean. He raised his hands and started to shake his head when he noticed something.

His clothes were different. Gone were his jeans and flannel. Now in a loose sapphire blue v-neck tunic type top, black slacks, and shiny black dress shoes that somehow fit like a glove, Dean gaped like a fish. The dancer grabbed his hand and pulled him into the next move. Through no voluntary movement of his own, Dean moved in time with the shining emerald being.

“Dean? What are you doing?” Sam called to him, not caring about the performance and ignoring the hushing from people by him.

Dean swiveled his head as he caught his dance partner, not missing a step. “I don’t know! I can’t control it!” He wasn’t freaking out at all. Sam watched him, half confused and half amused. He looked over in the distance and Dean could see his face switch to one of shock. “Sammy?” He called. But Sam was already gone. Still being pulled by an unknown force, Dean accepted that he was stuck in this situation and just hoped he wouldn’t be forced to dance himself to death.

Other people were in similar outfits to him, green and blue shirts for each green and blue jumpsuit. Some had faces similar to his, visible confusion. Others looked to be in complete bliss as they energetically moved, every note made visible by all the bodies in tune. Dean wasn’t quite sure when the disco ball dropped from the ceiling but it had only just begun to spin and reflect as the beat swelled.

_ Kill the lights _

_ (Kill the lights) _

_ Close your eyes _

_ (Close your eyes) _

Dean didn’t want to. In the few minutes he’d been stuck in this messed up version of a flash mob, he’d grown fascinated with the one that brought him in. The way they moved so perfectly together, effortlessly spinning one another in perfect harmony. A sense of familiarity settled over him, like they’d been dancing like this for years rather than just for a few passing moments. Dean wasn’t sure he wanted the song to end. The instruments slowly tapered down, the dancers all began to clap in time as Maura finished her number.

_ Close your eyes, you can see me by the way that I feel _

_ Touch my body, kill the lights tonight _

The remaining audience rose from their seats, a standing ovation. As they clapped and cheered, as Maura bowed and blew kisses, each of the dancers began to lift their masks. Dean watched his partner bring up their hands to their mask. Time seemed to slow down as the mask was pushed up.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel, in a glittery green bell-bottomed and sleeved jumpsuit, simply smiled as he stood there. 

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat. He pulled Cas into a tight embrace, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder. His eyes started to burn but he refused to let tears fall, blinking them away. “Don’t ever do that again.” He finally whispered.

“I don’t plan to.”

Dean lifted his head off Cas’ should and brought up his hand to cup his face. “I thought I’d lost you, man.” He watched Cas’ face for a moment before looking around. “Where’s Sam?”

“He’s perfectly fine. Eileen’s with him.” Cas responded, like this was common knowledge. He chuckled when Dean’s jaw dropped and he began to spudder. “We should go outside. There’s much to discuss. Cas took Dean’s hand in his and led him to the door. On their way, they passed Yamaris, who looked very cosy with another woman in a similar white suit. 

She whistled at them when she spotted them. “Cas, is this Freckles?” Her smile was bright and genuine, if not a bit teasing.

Dean watched the back of Cas’ neck go red. He cleared his throat and paused. “Yes.” He then turned and continued to lead Dean out before he could ask questions. Yamaris and her friend whooped and cheered as they walked away. They managed their way through the doors of the theater to the cool air outside. Cas pulled Dean to the side of the building where a bench was situated against the brick wall. 

“Freckles, huh?” Dean asked as they sat down. He could see the red flush on Cas’ face wasn’t just from the various lights around them.

“Mari is not a good person to partake in cannabis consumption with. She will get you tongue tied and saying things that she will taunt you about for the rest of your life.” Cas calmly answered.

Dean laughed, slightly shocked. “You smoke now?”

Cas shrugged. “Maura recommended it for joint pain. I greatly prefer it’s effects rather than that of human made medicines. They caused some very unpleasant indigestion.” His nose wrinkled as he recalled the feeling.

Dean’s eyebrows creased. “Wait, why do you need pain management? Since when do you get indigestion?”

“Since Jack rose me from The Empty and was unable to restore my grace.” 

“So you’re?”

“Human, yes.”

“Oh.” Dean started fiddling his fingers, antsy. “Is it permanent this time?”

“We think so. I… If Jack figures out how, I will likely decline.” Cas’ face was expressionless. 

Dean could still see that he was on guard, though. He chewed on his cheek for a moment and swallowed. “How long have you been back?”

“Not long. Right after Jack left you and Sam, he started work on bringing me back. I wish you’d had seen him. He was so proud of himself.” Cas looked every ounce of the overjoyed father that he was.

Dean smirked at the thought of Jack and Cas celebrating his win. Silence settled between them. Dean hunched forward, bracing his arms on his thighs. He tilted his head toward the sky, toward the bright and shining moon. “What are we doin’ here, Cas?”

“Danny is in need of help.”

“Help? What kind of help?”

Cas sighed, weary. “There is a secret branch of your government called the Bureau of Normalcy. They want to control anything and everything that they don’t deem ‘normal’.” Cas’ air quotes even looked annoyed. “They’ve been after Danny and their inhabitants for decades.”

Dean rubbed at his face. “So lemme see if I got this right. Danny, who is a sentient city block and refuge camp, is being hunted by the government.”

“That is correct.”

“What does that have to do with us? How did you even meet Danny?” Dean could feel an ache beginning in the back of his skull.

“Jack. Danny sent out a distress signal that he was able to pick up shortly after I was back. Complete accident, really. We’re still not sure how it got to him.” 

“Hasn’t Danny been avoiding them for years, why do they need us?”

“Because an agent of the Bureau has gone rogue.”

“Rogue?”

“He has become somewhat unhinged and is deciding to play by his own rules instead of the Bureau’s.” Cas clenched his jaw. “He’s recruited hate groups to lead an attack. Tonight.”

Dean jumped up off the bench. “What the fuck?” 

“Dean, without us these people will be slaughtered.” Cas pleaded.

Dean softened. “Hey, I never said we weren’t helping. An earlier heads up would have been nice, though.” He sat back on the bench. “I’m assuming that they aren’t expected too soon?”

Cas shook his head. “We still have a few hours. Danny wanted anyone that was volunteering to be able to have some fun. Just in case. They’re very upset about this whole thing. They're a pacifist, doesn’t believe in killing.”

“So why not just keep running?”

“Hate groups are everywhere. If they get knowledge on Danny, there will be a constant risk of horrific violence. Danny may be a pacifist but they will not allow their inhabitants to be harmed. This is the only option.” 

Dean nodded. “Is there a weapons depot around here?”

“Did you happen to see a store covered in pink lace?” 

Dean looked at him very confused before he remembered seeing pink lace out of the corner of his eye when he and Sam had made their way in. “That’s the gun store?”

Cas chuckled. “Danny is quite unique.” He rose from the bench. “We can go there now and pick up supplies.”

Dean followed him. They walked down the street slowly, as if they were both deciding the savor the moment. Dean took a breath and was about to speak when Cas beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for all the confusion this has caused.”

“Confusion is nothin’ new. We’re making it up as we go, right?” Cas smiled and kept walking. The sound of his jumpsuit swishing together filled the empty space between them. “You… you look good. In this.” He lightly gestured toward Cas’ outfit.

“All Maura and Danny. She was already planning a performance for tonight and decided to recruit me. It is surprisingly comfortable, though using the bathroom is cumbersome.” 

Dean nodded. “Must be annoying.” He nearly choked when he realized they were discussing Cas having to undress. Now was not the time to think about a half naked Cas. Subject change needed. “So what exactly set off this agent?”

“Maura.” Cas stopped in front of a storefront that was covered in lace. He reached for the door and it swung open on it’s own. “Thank you, Danny.” The pair walked inside and began to fill duffle bags with weapons and vests. They loaded some shields onto a dolly cart, stacking the duffle bags on top. They each grabbed a side of the cart and started on the trek back to the theater. After hearing the door close behind them, Cas continued their conversation, as if no time had passed at all. “She used to work for them.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. “She doesn’t seem like the type.”

“Maura Lee Karupt was formerly known as Morris Wilson. The agent is her former partner. She was sent to get intel on Danny. She ended up defecting, instead.” Cas smiled softly, recognizing just how similar he and Maura are. “She has been very kind to me since I arrived. When she first got back from town today I was… anxious. Her methods are strange but it worked. She kept changing into ridiculous outfits. It was quite funny.” Cas shook lightly, silently laughing at the memory.

“Why… why were you anxious? Are you worried about this Bureau thing? Because we’ve definitely dealt with worse.” Dean knew exactly what he was doing. The same thing he always did, asking roundabout questions to avoid answers that he doesn’t want.

Cas stopped walking, using his foot to keep the cart from smacking into his ankles. “No. I have full confidence in our success tonight. Backwoods bigots are easy.”

“Then why-”

“Don’t act as though you don’t know.” Cas looked him square in the face. “You and I are well aware as to why I was anxious, Dean. I refuse to keep playing this game.”

“Game?” Dean felt the anger bubbling in his chest. “What do you mean by ‘game’?”

Cas breathed in deeply. “The game we’ve had going since I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition. You know what game.”

“Oh, so you mean the game I keep losing?” Dean’s nostrils flared as he spat out the words.

Cas flinched. “You’re not the only one who keeps losing.”

Dean laughed bitterly. “Sure. Then why does it seem like I’m the one always getting left behind.”

“That’s not fair-”

“You know what’s not fair?” Dean asked, cold. “Not fair is having to look after everyone else before me. Not fair is being left over and over. Not fair is you and your deal and not even giving me time-” He cut himself off and turned away. 

Minutes passed with them like this, standing on the sidewalk, tension thick. Cas hung his head, defeated. “I couldn’t do it, give you the time. In the face of my imminent death I chose to be selfish. I couldn’t let you.” Cas lifted his head to stare straight at Dean. “I can’t make you love me, Dean.”

Dean whipped his head toward Cas. He could see tears filling his eyes but none fell. “After all this time…” Dean pursed his lips. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Cas tilted his head to the side. “What don’t I know?”

Dean turned up toward the sky and laughed. It was hollow. He shoved his hands into his pockets and swallowed.  _ Now or never. _ “You can’t possibly think that after all we’ve been through that I don’t…?”

Cas just stared at him.

“You do, don’t you. I… Cas, when I said I needed you, I meant it. I need you. I need you here with me. I can’t-Fuck!” Dean pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and turned, dropping to sit on the curb. Cas soon joined him. Dean pushed down the lump in his throat. “I’m not good at this, Cas.”

“You don’t have to be good at this, Dean.”

“Yes, I do. Because I’ve been bad at this for so long that I almost lost for good.” Dean looked Cas directly in the eye. “I should have told you that I loved you a long time ago.” 

Cas breathed in sharply. “And do you still?”

Dean reached out and tentatively grabbed Cas’ hand. “I’ve never stopped.”

Cas squeezed his fingers tightly. They just sat and stared for a while. Basking in each other's presence and the words they could finally share. Dean started rubbing his thumb on the back of Cas’ hand, slowly and lightly. Cas looked down at their joined hands, Dean’s eyes following. Cas lifted their hands and pressed a small kiss to Dean’s knuckles. Face now bright red, Dean turned away, but didn't pull his hand from the others grip. Cas reaches with his other arm and rests his palm against Dean’s face, coaxing him to turn back. “Why do you continue to hide from me?” It isn’t accusatory, rather a dull ache set to sound.

“I’m not-” Dean paused. His shoulders relaxed from the tightness that he wasn’t sure when had set in. He pressed his cheek against Cas’ hand. “I’m not trying to.”

“Yet and still, you hide all the same.” Dean’s eyes screwed shut. “Even now. Why? What has made it so that you keep locking up and away?” Cas pressed his lips to Dean’s knuckle again. “Please tell me.” 

Dean breathed in deep and opened his eyes. “I don’t know.” And it’s the truth. He doesn’t know. Doesn’t know what it is or how to explain the paths his mind takes him on. “I don’t know how not to.”

“We can work on that.” With the slightest of an upturn of the corner of his mouth, Cas was a beacon of understanding and patience. 

Insecurity creeps over Dean, spreading and settling a grip in his chest. “Don’t you know I’m no good for you?” Cas promptly removed his hand from Dean’s cheek. Before Dean could react, Cas flicked his forehead. “Ow, what the fuck?” Dean rubbed the sore spot.

“I will not allow you to say such things. You are the only one for me.” He was serious. Cas stood from the curb, keeping Dean’s hand in his. “We should continue back to the theater.”

Dean nodded and stood. They grabbed the cart and started walking again, still hand in hand. They maintained the silence, but there wasn’t tension there. They still had more to discuss, this a conversation that will likely be returned to more than once. That thought passed Dean’s mind and he found that the tightening in his chest didn’t return. He counted that as progress. 

As they approached they could see two people standing outside the theater. Sam and Eileen stood with their arms linked. Eileen pulled from Sam and wrapped her arms around Cas. “I told you it’d be fine.” Cas held up his hand with his fist closed, his thumb and pinky extended, and gently shook it up and down. Eileen turned to Dean and hugged him as well. “It’s good to see you.”

Dean smiled and hugged her back. They stood there a moment when Dean noticed something. “Why are you barefoot?”

Eileen began to laugh. Sam chuckled with her before answering the question. “Danny’s been teaching Eileen to DJ.”

“You’re fucking with me.” Dean deadpanned. Eileen, Sam, and Cas all were laughing. “Holy, shit, you’re not fucking with me?”

Eileen shook her head. “Danny made me a special booth so I can feel the beat through my feet.”

Dean stood there shocked, which quickly shifted into being massively impressed. “This night just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”

Sam snorted. “I’ll say. Nice costume there, Romeo.”

“Hey!” Eileen swatted him. “It’s Freckles.”

Dean held back a laugh as Cas’ embarrassed look. Regaining composure, he cleared his throat. “Where are my other clothes exactly?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Eileen said and led them toward the doors.

The four of them walked into the theater together. People were scattered all about in the lobby. Cas started pointing people out to Dean, informing him of their allies. He pointed to a large circle of people sitting on the floor. “You know Mari. Her girlfriend is Aleja. They both keep the theater running smoothly and are in the choir. They’re sitting with the rest of the singers. I’m afraid I don’t know all their names yet.” Dean nodded and looked over to see Theodore with the man from earlier. “I’m assuming you followed Theodore here. He’s with Sanka. The other performer from tonight is over there.” Cas pointed slightly over from them. “Tay and their friend, Cam.”

“Just a friend?” Dean playfully bumped Cas’ shoulder.

“So far, yes, but there may or may not be a bet going on about when they won’t just be friends.” 

“Of course there is. Hey, so, clothes?”

“Yes, I apologize for getting distracted. Danny? It’s time for the costume change.” Cas’ words echoed through the theater. Everyone that had previously been seated arose. 

Dean looked around, concerned. “Costume change?” In a blink of an eye, gone were the suits and dresses and jumpsuits. What replaced them was denim and leather and cotton t-shirts. Dean looked down to see he was back in his old clothes. He sighed at the feeling of being in his boots again rather than dress shoes. Cas was still next to him, in his signature trench coat. Sam, Eileen, Dean, and Cas each grabbed supplies for themselves. They split into pairs to hand out the rest. Baseball bats, crossbows, several hand guns, a couple sets of brass knuckles, as well as vests and shields. 

Dean was strapping on his thigh holster when he saw a pair of sneakers appear in front of him. Maura, in a track suit that was still every bit as glamorous as she was, and holding a baseball bat. “Glad to see you stuck around.”

“Well, we didn’t have anything better to do.” Dean smirked.

Maura chuckled. “Yeah, sure. Anyway, I have something for you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out an earpiece, dropping it in his hand. “See you on the battlefield.” Maura winked as she walked away.

Dean watched as she left and looked down at the earpiece. He carefully placed it in his ear. “Hello?”

“Miss me?”

“Charlie!”

“In the flesh. Well, in the voice for you. I’m tracking the group's movement and have some treats set up in spots.” Dean could hear her twiddle her fingers. “I have surveillance tapped into Danny, I can see everything, it’s so cool!” She squealed.

“Tell me you’re not doing all this alone.” Dean rubbed at his temples.

Charlie chuckled through the headphone. “Nah, I have a real team for once. We can catch you up later. Go rally the troops.” 

Dean walked over to where Cas, Eileen, and Sam were standing, hunched over a table. On the table was a perfect replica of Danny. Several small wooden people were scattered about, looking very familiar. “How long do we have?”

“Less than half an hour.” Cas responded. “Sam, gather all the people with shields and their spotters. We need them in formation as soon as possible.” Sam nodded and walked away. “Eileen,” Cas signed, “Check on the archers form, they haven’t had much training.” Eileen went off in search of anyone carrying the weapon. Cas turned to Dean, “You and I can see if any close combatants need help.”

The pair walked over to a small group of people holding various short range weapons. No pistols, but chains and bats and steel pipes. ‘ _ We didn’t bring any steel pipes?’ _ Dean decided it better not to ask. They spent some time showing those less experienced with fighting, which was simultaneously fortunately and unfortunately very few. It gave them less work in the little time they had left but Dean still had a bad taste in his mouth at the thought of why exactly so many of these people, these misfits, knew to punch and dodge so well. They partnered people up, making sure the weaker fighters were paired with someone more training.

A banging sound came from the front of the lobby. Everyone turned. Maura stood atop a table, baseball bat in hand. She tapped the bat against the table one last time before settling it on her shoulder. “Before we go, Danny wanted to say a few words. Danny?”

The neon exit sign above the doors expanded to be visible to everyone.

_ Thank you all. _

_ It pains me for things to  _

_ have to come to this. _

_ I love all of you and  _

_ will be right by your side. _

_ There will be peace _

_ when this night is done. _

_ Maura? _

Maura smiled at her dear friend. She turned and addressed the lobby. “I am honored to be fighting alongside all you amazing people. I am honored to be defending our lives together. Danny our home.” She paused. “And our dearest friend.” She took in a deep breath. “Now, I just have one question for y'all.” 

There were murmurs from the crowd. Maura cupped her hands and shouted her rallying cry. 

“Who in here tryin’ start a riot?” 

The crowd cheered, the hunters collectively looking a little lost but supportive nonetheless. She jumped down from the table and waved her hand toward the door. The crowd made their way out to take their positions, Sam and Eileen following. Cas started toward the door when Dean grabbed his wrist.

Cas turned, confused. “What’s wrong?”

Dean tugged his arm, pulling Cas into a fierce embrace. Startled, Cas soon relaxed. Dean moved and whispered into Cas’ ear. “If you die again, I’ll kill you.”

Cas snorted. “I will do my best to avoid it.”

“Good.”

\-----

Dean was entirely prepared for the convoy that came upon them. Men in trucks and jeeps. Some with automatic weapons. Some in white hoods. 

Sam, he and Eileen stationed near the entrance in an alleyway, had Charlie patch him over to Dean. “Dude, I think I actually see tiki torches.”

“Guess we weren’t invited to the party.” 

Sam switched back to Charlie. Dean and Cas were crouched behind a car, as were most of the others. A few laid atop buildings, acting as snipers. One of Charlie’s drones buzzed in the distance. At the end of the road, Maura stood silently. The convoy stopped several feet away. A man in a suit and tie popped out of one of the Jeeps. He started walking forward when Maura held out her bat. “That’s far enough, Darren.”

“Surely it shouldn’t have to come to this.” Darren’s tone condescending, he continued. “We’ll let you go. Just give us the street.”

“You know that isn’t happening.” 

“You won’t win this fight, Morris.”

Maura’s voice turned cold. “This ends tonight.” 

Darren shrugged. “Your funeral.” Darren raised a walkie talkie to his mouth.

Maura jumped behind a car right as the first shots were fired. The snipers started to take aim and return the favor. The vehicles started driving forward, attempting to ram in. Dean and Cas both popped up, still using the car as a shield, and started focusing on the tires on the approaching combatants. One by one the rubber was blown away, tons of steel riding on rims before stopping in the dirt.

Several men exited the trucks. Each was armed, some with guns, others machetes, and others still with metal chains. They charged toward the street. Bullets flew through the air, striking at random. 

A sniper was caught in the arm. 

A man from one of the trucks took two steps before being shot right between the eyes. 

People on both sides started to fall, most injured, some dead. 

Charlie shouted various warnings over several earpieces.

All the vehicles sustained extensive damage. 

Once the enemy that had entirely crossed over onto Danny, pairs of people carrying shields swarmed out from the alleyways. They stood shoulder to shoulder, forming a barrier around the edges of the street. They all braced for impact from the still firing weapons. Dean and Cas kept aim on anyone carrying one of the automatic weapons. The sounds of metal hitting metal and wood with flesh filled the air. 

Sam and Eileen, having ran in when the shields were deployed, were seemingly in perfect sync with one another. Eileen kicked a man in a suit over to Sam, who promptly dropped into a suplex. Eileen jumpped on a Klan member's back to stab him while Sam throat punched one that tried to intervene. 

Bullets eventually ran out. People started to drop their weapons and run in to join their respective teams. Dean separated the barrel of his handgun from the magazine and stabbed the sharp edge into another suit. Cas ran over to Yamaris after seeing her hit with a chain. Dean grabbed one of the men who was trying to attack Sanka, who was holding a shield. He promptly threw him to the ground, landing several blows to his face. Dean moved on to the next but made sure to add in one extra kick.

Maura swung her bat steadily at Darren, who dodged and grabbed an abandoned pipe. Flying wood collided with Darren’s wrist and it shattered. He doubled over, gripping his arm in pain. Most of Darren’s men were down. He had no backup. 

Nonetheless, he spoke as if he did. “My patience is wearing thin, Morris.” 

Maura placed the edge of the bat under Darren’s chin.

“Are you done?”

Darren spat at her. “Never.”

Maura sighed. “Charlie, do it.”

“Copy that.” Charlie’s voice blared over a speaker. “All files have been permanently scrubbed from B.O.N. databases. All oddities have been released from their rooms.”

Maura leaned forward towards Darren. “You are now.” The bat swung, colliding with Darren's temple. He fell to the ground. Maura turned toward the remaining hoard. Her voice boomed over the speakers. “Any of you remaining will leave and never come back. We won’t be as nice a second time around.”

The retreat was swift.

\-----

The theater had been turned into emergency triage. Bullet wounds, broken bones, blood, and bruises turned the lobby into a sea of blue and purple and red. Maura carried a bucket around, making small ice packs for people as she went. Sam took one from her and pressed it against his rapidly swelling right eye. He didn’t hold it there long. He and Eileen had a line of people that needed their assistance. A fair amount of limbs were bending in a way they shouldn’t. 

Yamaris and Aleja would periodically come by and drop off more supplies. Bandages, pieces of wood to use for splints, and plenty of alcohol to sterilize as well as numb. Eileen focused on popping back in shoulders and straightening noses, being able to speed through it with ease. She took care one how she moved her head due to a large cut on the side of her neck which was being held by butterfly stitches. 

Yamaris made her way over to the other side of the room. She met with Cas and dropped off stock. She smiled at him and he could see she lost a tooth. Aleja took several bloodied towels and empty liquor bottles. Cas gathered the clean towels, fishing line, and leather belts. He moved quickly to lay out everything, careful to not only for his aching hip and knees, but also to not gostle Dean. He got to work on cutting the belts into smaller sections. Dean was seated at a table with an adjustable lamp pointing at the latest patient. Cam’s shoulder had a nice slug lodged in it. Tay stood and held their partner’s hand and Dean started to assess the wound.

“Okay, I’m gonna pour this over it. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch but sepsis is worse.” Dean held a bottle of vodka in his hand. Cam groaned but still gave Dean a thumbs up. “Need you to bite down on this first.” Dean held up one of the belt pieces.

Cam looked concerned. “Why?”

“Keep ya from biting your tongue.” He held the leather up to their mouth. Cam took it with no further questions. “Okay on three.” Cam nodded sharply. “One-” Dean quickly poured the liquor on the hole in their flesh. Cam made a noise behind the leather. Dean grabbed a clean set of tongs, Maura having taken the dirty ones when she came with ice earlier, and positioned it at the edge of the entry site. “This is the not fun part. Need you to try not to move.” 

Cam took in a deep breath and Dean got to work. He pressed the tongs into the wound. 

Dean could hear Cam’s teeth grinding against the leather. 

He swiftly pulled out the bullet. He examined it for a moment, checking to see if it had broken. “It’s your lucky day.” He held up the solid bullet. “Done digging.” He grabbed the bottle and poured it over the newly exposed flesh without warning. Cam choked. “Sorry. Hold still. Need to stitch you up.” Cas handed him a newly threaded needle. He hastily closed the irritated tissue. When Cam sat up, Dean handed them the bottle. They thanked him and walked away with Tay. 

As Dean was setting up for the next person, he took a look around. He saw all the injured, all the people bandaging each other's cuts. He saw the less injured come around with juice and various snacks, especially for those that were shot. But what struck him was what he didn’t see. Despite all the pain and suffering and devastation, there was not a single person not accounted for. There were no plastic bags, no screams of grief. 

There were none dead among their ranks. The realization that he had a win where, for once, everyone would actually be okay, wrapped around him like a warm blanket. Dean smirked and got back to work.

\-----

After everyone was treated, people started parting ways. Tay and Cam had left not long after their bullet removal. Sanka and Theodore were saying their goodbyes to members of the choir. Yamaris, Aleja, and Maura sat together near the entrance. Aleja waved the hunters over to the table. Once they got close enough, Yamaris and Aleja pulled Cas and Eileen into a crushing group hug.

Maura beamed despite her obvious exhaustion. She held a hand out to Dean. “You did good.”

Dean shook her outstretched hand. “We did good,” he corrected.

Maura shook her head. “I wasn’t talking about that.” She nodded over at Cas. Cas, who wore a large grin as he chatted. “You did good.”

Dean froze for a moment. His cheeks were red while his brain rebooted. “Failure wasn’t an option this time,” spilled out before he processed it.

Maura put a hand to her chest and nodded at him. They all shared final good nights and walked out the theater. Eileen started pulling on Sam’s arm in the direction of where she was staying. Sam sputtered for a moment before calling out a quick, “Good night!” 

Dean and Cas began the journey towards the other end of Danny Street. Silence hung between them again, not entirely uncomfortable. It was Cas that spoke first. “Do you remember the night we met?”

Dean’s eyebrow’s furrowed. “Of course I do. Why?”

Cas hummed but said nothing. A few more minutes passed before he stopped abruptly, Dean nearly walking into him. “We’re here.” Cas pointed at the building.

A barn.

Well, a barn home. A small barn home. But it was still a barn. Air whooshed out of Dean’s lungs. Of course it’s a barn. He had a lump in his throat when he turned to look at Cas. He tried to figure out what to say. 

And then it came to him. 

He took a step toward Cas, lightly grabbed the collar of his trench coat, and leaned down, brushing their lips together. Cas titled his head upward, pressing a bit more firmly. He moved his hand to Dean’s shoulder, as he’d had years ago. As he had weeks ago. Dean fisted the trenchcoat, trembling. Cas pulled back slightly, just enough to speak. “Dean?”

“Don’t go.” His jaw clenched and Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, feeling like sandpaper. “I can’t… I can’t do you leaving again.”

Cas opened his eyes in confusion, not entirely sure when they had closed. There he was, tense, shaking, eyes screwed tight enough to see spots. Bruised in more ways than one. But still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester. Cas reached his hands up to cup his face. “Dean?”

“Please,” he won’t admit to himself that he’s begging, though he is just the same.

“I won’t. Dean?” Cas rubs his thumb along Dean’s cheekbone, trying to coax his eyes open. “Look at me, Dean.” His tone is gentle but firm.

Dean leans into the touch, tentatively peering through his eyelashes. 

“I can’t do leaving you again, either.” 

“Yeah?” It comes out as a whisper.

Cas simply nodded. A promise. He leaned up, lightly pulling, planting a soft kiss to Dean’s forehead. Dean stopped shaking, muscles relaxed and they ached from being so tight. Cas gave him a small smile. “Let’s go inside.”

Dean let go of Cas’ collar and claspped his hand instead. They walked up the footpath to the door. The inside of Cas’ little barn home was simple and deceivingly spacious. Cas shrugged out of his trenchcoat, taking Dean’s jacket from him and hanging them up. He sat down on a little bench and started to take off his shoes. Dean kneeled down to untie his laces, his knees popping as he went. Once undone, he toed off his boots and slid them with his foot into the corner. They walked over to the living room. “Is that a futon?” He never took Cas for a futon person.

“I find naps on the couch are quite pleasant. Why not have a couch that turns into a bed?” He looked so pleased with himself, finding the satisfaction in the smallest of doings. Cas sat down, patting the space next to him. 

Dean settled onto cushion. It  _ was _ comfortable. “It’s nice. The house. Very…” ‘ _ Us _ .’ “... nice. You know,” he made a sweeping motion with his hand, gesturing toward everything and nothing. “Nice.” He cringed internally. ‘ _ Smooth, Winchester, very smooth.’ _

“Danny.” Cas responded. “They are very accomodating. We went over plans for a few hours.”

Dean nodded. He had his hands in his lap, fidgeting his fingers, unable to keep still. His teeth lightly chewing on the inside of his lip.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“I think it would be best if we returned to our previous conversation.”

Dean stared at Cas. 

A minute passed. 

“Oh, you want me to start, okay,” tumbled out his mouth. He sat there, in a cycle of going to speak and deciding against it. He finally settled on, “What are we?”

Cas tilted his head, contemplating. “What do you want us to be?”

“Together.” Dean answered automatically.

Cas studied him. “Elaborate?”

Dean sucked in a breath. “I mean…” His forehead creased. “I mean together. In everything. All of it.” Cas didn’t speak. Dean thought for a moment, searching for the words. “I-I…” He took the plunge. “I want to be with you.”

Cas raised his eyebrows. “As in be my spouse?”

The floor looked mighty interesting right then. “Yeah.”

Cas reached out and placed his hand on the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him forward. Their lips pressed together and Dean’s hands grabbed onto Cas’ shoulders. Dean gasped when he felt the tentative swipes against his mouth, tugging Cas impossibly closer. They savored this. The shy exploration of each other. Dean had always thought it would be something heated, desperate. But this?

This was so much better.

The need for air ultimately won out. Dean was panting as they parted. Cas trailed his mouth along Dean’s jaw. He hooked his thumb under Dean’s chin, gently tilting for better access. A low groan rumbled in Dean’s chest. Cas kissed and nipped and licked a path down his neck. Reaching his collar bone, Cas bit down with more force. 

Dean let out a shaky moan and weaved his fingers into Cas’ hair. He never wanted it to end. But then he remembered.

They were absolutely filthy. Gunpowder, dirt, blood, sweat. “Cas?” He gasped. Cas sucked on the bite. Dean’s voice raised in pitch. “Cas?” Cas bit down on the spot again. “Ahhh, Angel, wait.” Cas immediately stopped his motions, looking up at Dean, worried. Dean rushed to reassure him. “Not that that I wasn’t enjoying that but I need a shower first.”

Cas relaxed. “Would you like company?”

He hadn’t expected that. “Uh...yes but, uh, but can you give me a head start?” Cas tilted his head, confused. Dean was not prepared to have this conversation right now. So he didn’t. “Just let me go in first and I’ll call you in when I’m ready?”

Cas hummed. “Okay. The bathroom is upstairs on the left. Towels are in the closet next to the sink.”

Dean pressed a quick kiss onto the top of Cas’ head before disentangling himself from the man. He jogged up the stairs, slowed down only by the ache in his bones. He reached the bathroom, which was large but not uncomfortably so. Still maintaining a cozy feeling with it’s space. He made sure the door was fully shut before he started checking the drawers under the sink for anything of assistance. When he reached the last drawer his brain went offline.

Still new in the package, a black bulb with a tapered rounded tip, accompanied by a bottle of cleaner as well as lube. He stood there, blinking at it, utterly blown away. He glanced at himself in the mirror and then back at the open drawer. “Well… at least he’s prepared.” Dean murmured to himself.

\-----

A half hour later, the bulb and toy cleaner were back in their drawer. The lube was stealthily hidden among the many bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Dean checked the temperature of the water for the third time and at this point he knew he was stalling. He looked himself over in the mirror again, insecurity wrapping itself in his chest. He breathed in deep, held it, counted to ten, and out. He turned and stepped into the tub. After letting the water run over him for a moment, Dean leaned out the bath, opened the door, and called out. “Cas?” He left the door slightly cracked and pulled the curtain closed. He picked up one of the bottles of body wash and attempted to read the small print in dim lighting.

“It’s milk and honey.” Cas spoke, resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder and snaking an arm around his waist. 

Dean jumped, nearly dropping the bottle. “Jesus, Cas, warn a guy next time, will ya?” 

Cas grabbed the bottle from him. “Maybe I wanted to surprise you.”

“Why? So I can slip and die?” Dean was half chuckling when he said it. He yelped when a light smack was laid on his right buttcheek. 

“Don’t joke like that.” Cas rubbed the spot to soothe it. “You were fine.” Cas grabbed a washcloth and poured some of the body wash onto it.

Dean, pouting and butt hurt in more ways than one, turns to fully look at the other man. “We both know with my luck I’d bust my ass.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Cas poked the tip of his nose with a soapy finger, leaving suds behind. Dean shook his head, startled for a moment before the utter ridiculousness of the situation dawned on him. “Did you just boop me?” He bit down on his lips to suppress a chuckle.

Cas started rubbing the washcloth on Dean’s chest but said nothing. Dean still saw it though. Ever so slightly, Cas’ lips were quivering. Dean swiped his finger through the suds on his chest and returned the favor. Cas snorted before breaking out into full laughter, still attempting to use the towel on Dean. Dean couldn’t help it. And then there they were, just a pair of giggling idiots losing their shit at soap.

Cas, ever persistent, kept on swiping the washcloth over Dean’s skin. He wasn’t getting far, frequently just holding the soapy rag in a spot and shaking with what could only be described as chortles. Dean finally could take it anymore, Cas’ insistence on trying to stay on track combined with his inability to keep a straight face was making his sides hurt. He grabbed the cloth from him. “Gimme that,” he said through short laughs, “you’ve been rubbing the same spot for five minutes! I like having skin there, Cas.” He held the cloth up when Cas tried to reach for it. “Mine,” he teased.

Still smiling, Cas’ eyes narrowed. Quick as a flash, he’d wrapped his arms around Dean’s hips, settling his fingers along the cleft of Dean’s ass, and pulled him close. Dean gasped at the contact. “Mine,” Cas teased back.

It was only then that Dean fully processed that they were naked. The evidentiary support poking him in the hip. “Ohhh.”

“Is this alright?” 

Dean settled his hands on Cas’ waist, gears running slowly and trying to catch up. He hesitantly nodded.

Cas removed one of his hands from Dean’s ass to grip his chin. “Use your words, Dean.”

If Dean wasn’t hard before he was now. “I’m okay.” He croaked.

Cas’ fingers started to press between Dean’s cheeks, just barely dipping in. Dean choked. “That’s not what I asked.” He caressed the sensitive flesh with his fingertips. Dean’s breathing ticked up. “What I had asked was if this was alright.”

Dean’s eyes fluttered upward. “Ahhh, fuck. Yes. I-It’s alright.” Face flushed, though not from the steam.

Cas said nothing, just took his hand from Dean’s chin to his hip, shifting him towards the wall. The water, somehow still hot, poured over them. Cas went to grab another washcloth, letting go of Dean’s ass in the process. He whined, squeezing Cas’ sides at the loss of contact. Cas gave him a quick peck, plucking the other towel out of Dean’s hand. He took the body wash and squeezed it out onto both bits of cloth, handing one back to Dean. 

The slightly sweet smell of the cleanser filled the room. Both men took their time, mapping out each other's bodies with the bits of fabric, scrubbing away all the grime of the day. One would get distracted and kiss the other, slowing the cleaning process significantly. Danny seemed to be a provider of a bottomless water heater, so there was no abrupt temperature change to startle them into hurrying. During the third make out break, Cas moved the washcloth down the swell of Dean’s ass. He moaned into Cas’ mouth. He pulled Cas closer, bucking his hips to grind against him. Cas continued his ministrations, ever thorough with each pass, dip, rub, repeat. 

They took turns rinsing off, Dean grabbing one of the bottles of shampoo and squirting some into his hand. He gently massaged the gel into Cas’ hair, Cas tilting his head into the touch. “Why does this smell like booze?” Dean asked.

Cas hummed. “Because there is stout in it. It made me think of you.” He felt Dean’s hands stiffen in his hair. “Dean?” Cas turned around to see him, standing there, still and staring into space. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, but it seemed that Dean didn’t notice. Cas brushed Dean’s cheek, trying to bring him back from wherever his mind had taken him. “What’s wrong, Honeybee?” Cas’ voice light and soothing. “Talk to me.”

Dean sucked in a breath. He rubbed his cheek against his shoulder. “Sorry,” he sniffed, “I’m okay.”

Cas kept stroking Dean’s face. “You don’t have to tell me right now, but please don’t lie.”

“I’m not-” Dean started.

Cas cut him off with a look.

Dean sighed, knowing it was blatantly apparent how not okay he was. “It’s been rough, man.” He swallowed, throat dry.

Cas softened and gave him a small smile. Dean leaned into his touch, baring his neck. Cas looked at the marks he’d left behind earlier. The largest mark on Dean’s collar bone seemed to call out to him. A feeling he could only describe as primal ran through him. Cas started retracing his way down Dean’s neck, nipping at each red and purpling spot. A welcome distraction. When he reached his destination, he sucked hard on the skin there. The moan that left Dean echoed throughout the bathroom. Cas leaned up to whisper in Dean’s ear. “Let me worship you.” 

Dean captured his lips in a kiss. Cas growled against Dean’s mouth. He pulled away to push the other man, chest first, against the shower wall. He rested his chin on Dean’s shoulder, rubbing his fingers between Dean’s cheeks. He groaned and pushed backwards towards Cas’ hand. A short slap landed on his ass. He groaned and tilted his head back. Cas began to kiss his way down Dean’s spine. “What are you doing?” He asked, breathless.

Cas kept on his way, dropping down to kneel between Dean’s legs. He reached up and spread Dean open. He stared for a moment, fascinated.

“Cas,” Dean whined, “it’s rude to stare.” 

Cas pressed a finger against Dean’s hole, applying pressure but not breaching. He banged his forehead against the shower wall as Cas started rubbing his finger up and down. “So responsive.” Cas pushed the pad of his finger down harder, dipping in slightly.

“Sh-shut up.” Dean squirmed at the feeling.

Cas smirked. “Okay.” Dean was about to question him when he felt the tip of a tongue flick against his rim. He let out a long low moan. Cas prodded at the pucked skin, lapping at Dean’s hole. Dean’s gasps and moans made Cas shiver. He grabbed Dean’s hips and pulled him back, grinding his ass into his face. Dean’s thighs shook and he let out tiny rapid pants, his inability to get in enough air likely the only thing keeping him from screaming. Cas, not stopping, took one hand from Dean’s hip to poke around the bottles. He quickly double checked the bottle and when sure he had the right one, flipped open the lid and poured the contents onto his fingers, out of the stream still flowing from the showerhead. 

Dean didn’t notice, too caught up in pleasure. He felt Cas’ tongue press into him deeply, shortly accompanied by a lube slicked finger. Loose from Cas’ attention, the tip of his finger slipped through the ring of muscle easily. He continued working in the rest of the digit while licking and sucking Dean’s rim. He let out a long cry when Cas picked up speed. “Cas,” he gasped, “more.” Another finger joined the first. Dean’s cock hung heavily between his legs. At the feeling of Cas’ fingers scissoring inside him, all other thought processes stopped. All he was left with was, ‘ _ Cas, Cas, Cas _ .’

After he’d gotten his fill, Cas slowly rose from his position. He pushed his fingers in hard. Dean keened at the stimulation. Cas pressed his lips to Dean’s shoulder. “The bedroom is across the hall. I’ll meet you there in five minutes, okay?”

Dean nodded frantically, practically buzzing out of his skin. He groaned when Cas pulled out, feeling empty. Still shaky, he stepped out of the tub and grabbed one of the towels he’d set out for them. Careful to not slip on the floor, Dean practically ran to the other room. He skid to a halt when he got through the door. 

Several clusters of candles were set about the room. A four poster king bed sat in the middle. The nightstand was filled with various items. Bottled water, several small towels, a few different lubes, condoms, a heating pad. ‘ _ Wait, a heating pad?’  _ Yes, a heating pad as well as a couple muscle salves, and even a few granola bars. Dean tries to think about the last time he felt like this. Felt taken care of like this.

And he honestly couldn’t think of anything that could beat it.

He sat down on the end of the bed in awe. It was all so much. ‘ _ Cas brought snacks.’ _ It’d been years since Dean last got laid and, ‘ _ Cas brought snacks _ .’ Dean willed his eyes not to tear up.

“Is it alright?” Cas said from the doorway. 

Dean turned to see Cas, sans towel, walking slowly towards him, favoring his right leg a bit. He pouted and put his hands on Cas’ waist when he came close enough. “Why’re you limping?”

Cas carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I’m fine. My hip hurts a bit but it’s not terrible.”

Dean looked up at him. “We don’t have to.”

Cas pressed his thumb to Dean’s bottom lip. “No. But I’d still like to.”

Dean pecked a quick kiss to the digit. “Okay, then we’re doing it my way.”

Cas let out a gravely chuckle. “And what way would that be?” Dean motioned for Cas to get on the bed. He sat down carefully, hip definitely hurting more than he was letting on. Dean guided him to sit with his back against the headboard. He crawled onto Cas’ lap, sitting on his thighs. Dean pulled Cas into a searing kiss, tasting mint, biting his bottom lip and soothing it after with his tongue. Cas’ hand tangled in his hair and tugged his head back. He rubbed at the spot. “Your knees are likely worse than my hip.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Cas?”

“Yes?”

Dean reached between them and stroked down Cas’ cock. “Shut up.” He rubbed his thumb along the tip, spreading the bead that had formed.

Cas sighed. “Point taken.”

Dean smiled and began kissing his way down Cas’ neck. He pumped his hand a few more times as he shifted backward. His teeth grazed one of Cas’ nipples, pulling a hiss from him. Dean played with the nub, nipping and sucking while his free hand rolled the other between his fingers. Cas melted into the touch. Dean went on down his body, pausing to lay a feather light kiss above his belly button. He settled between the other man's legs, gripping the base of his cock with one hand. Dean looked up to see the love of his life, head back, with a look of absolute bliss on his face. Like he was just happy to be there and anything else was a wonderful bonus.

Dean flicked the tip with his tongue, sliding along the slit. Cas fisted the sheets, breathing heavily. Dean wrapped his lips around the tip, minding his teeth. He bobbed his head, in sync with his hand stroking the shaft. The hips beneath him shook, trying not to buck upwards. Cas opened his eyes when he felt a hand grab his and place it on Dean’s head. Green eyes peered up at him, giving him permission. Cas groaned and slowly pushed down. He rolled his hips, testing how far down he could get that mouth. Dean hummed, content with being used. 

Cas abruptly pulled Dean off of him, grabbing the hand that was around the base. He inhaled sharply and looked at Cas. He was breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, steadying himself. “Positively sinful.” He pulled the other man up towards him, feverishly pressing their lips together. Cas could taste himself on Dean’s tongue. He crawled back into Cas’ lap. 

Placing a hand on Cas’ shoulder, Dean leaned over to grab one of the bottles of lube. It was promptly snatched from him. “Hey,” he reached for it.

A hand wrapped around his ass and pulled him forward, brushing their cocks together. Dean groaned at the touch. Cas slicked up his fingers, grabbing the back of Dean’s neck with the other hand, bringing him close enough for their noses to brush. “Surely you knew I’d be the one opening you up.” He pressed two fingers in, staring right into the other man’s eyes as he did so. Dean tried to turn but the hand on his neck prevented that. His cheeks reddened as he moaned, self-conscious by the intense look. Cas rubbed and pressed inside, searching. “I want to see how beautiful you are as I make you fall apart,” he said softly. 

A swipe in just the right spot had Dean babbling. “There there right there, fuck ahh Cas  _ please _ .” He ground his hips down while resting his hands on Cas’ shoulders.

Cas looked down to see the desperate attempts at feeling some kind of friction on his cock. His fingers pumped inside the tight heat. He pressed their foreheads together. “Can I remove my hand without you looking away? I want to touch you.”

Dean kept pressing back against Cas’ hand. “Fuck ahh I’ll be good, pleasetouchmeCas, ahh.”

Cas’ brow twitched at the word choice but said nothing. He wrapped his hand around Dean’s cock as he wiggled a third finger inside him. Dean’s hips bucked sharply but he kept his eyes right on Cas, failing to suppress a needy whine. This just urged him to move faster, relishing in turning Dean into a gasping wriggling mess. He squeezed the base of his shaft as he pressed onto Dean’s prostate. 

Green eyes fluttered upward, a long moan was pulled from his lips. “Fuck, I can’t-I, Cas fuck me, I can’t.” His thighs were trembling.

“No.”

Dean couldn’t help the sob that left his chest. “Wha-?”

Cas started pumping his fingers roughly as he spoke, keeping a firm grip on the base of Dean’s length. “We will not be  _ fucking _ tonight, Dean. I believe the appropriate term is lovemaking.” He looked so smug as he said it.

It felt like there were shocks going through Dean as words poured past his lips. “Ahhh fine fine, make love to me, just let me ride you already, fuck.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed, a playful smile peaking out. He slowed his hand to a stop and made the move to pull out. Or so it seemed. Once he’d seen Dean’s shoulders relax, he pressed back in, dragging against his prostate. The look of surprise that quickly turned into eye fluttering, choked gasps is enough to forgo continued abuse of the gland. 

Dean took a moment to catch his breath. “You’re mean.” He eventually panted out, the upturned corner of his mouth taking out any seriousness. 

“I disagree.” Cas moved his hands to the other man's hips, earning a groan from releasing his cock. Dean flopped his head back. “I think I was very nice. Perhaps too nice?”

He abruptly titled his chin down, goofy grin plastered on his face. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Dean reached for the bottle of lube while Cas went to grab a condom from the box. Fingers wrapped around his forearm, stopping him. Cas looked to see Dean chewing on his lip, holding the lube in his free hand. “Would you be okay with not using one?” He let go of the other man’s arm. “Wanna feel you.”

Cas groaned and bucked his hips. “How could I possibly refuse?” 

Dean pressed his tongue against his teeth, clearly satisfied with himself. “Not that I don’t appreciate the consideration.” He poured some of the lube into his palm and slicked up Cas’ shaft. He flicked his wrist and played with the slit with the tip of his finger. 

“You’re a menace.” Cas growled, tightening his hold on Dean’s hip.

“You love it.” After a couple more pumps, he shifted to position himself, using the other man’s shoulder for leverage. Cas wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, holding it and rubbing between Dean’s cheeks. The head caught on his rim at each swipe. Cas watched in amusement as Dean’s chest hitched, making note of how his thighs shook but there weren’t any attempts to press down. He caught his eye, in it a silent question.

“What?” Cas pressed a bit harder, nearly sliding in but pulled back at the last moment. “Is it this that you need?” He repeated the movement, feeling a hand tighten on his shoulder. Dean was trembling, still making no move toward the pressure. Cas tilted his head. “Do you want it?”

“Yeah,” came a breathy whisper.

“Then why are you keeping yourself from taking it?” A blush filled Dean’s face, spreading down his neck, but he didn’t answer. Cas’ thumb began to rub circles into his hip. “Tell me.”

Seemingly getting redder, Dean huffed. “You never said I could.” Cas’ eyebrows shot up. As he processed this, an idea dawned on him and his face settled back into a narrow eyed smile. Dean was immediately concerned. “Cas? Wha-?” His question cut off with a moan as he felt Cas continue his teasing, planting his feet and quickly pushing the head of his shaft up, retreating before it could fully enter. Dean couldn’t help but whine, frustrated but still not moving.

“I wonder how long I could keep you like this.” Cas pondered. A panicked look crossed Dean’s face as precome dribbled onto Cas’ abdomen. His hips stilled, keeping his cock pressed up against Dean. “What was it you were saying about me being mean, Honeybee?”

“You? Mean? Naaah.” Came out as a nervous chuckle.

Cas nodded. “Ah, okay, I see. We can revisit this later.” The instant the look of relief passed over Dean’s face, Cas rocked his hips.

The face Dean made could only be described as pleasantly surprised and amused betrayal. “That is  _ not _ what later means.” 

Cas shrugged. “Irrelevant.”

Dean shot him an incredulous look. “You know damn well-”

“Semantics aside, wasn’t there a more,” hip roll, “ _ pressing _ matter that you wanted to attend to?”

“Are you going to let me this time or not?” The third smack of the night lands on the side of his ass. “That’s not an answer, Cas.”

“It is when you keep whining.”

“I’ll stop whining when you tell me if I can put your dick in me or not.” 

Cas couldn’t suppress the giggle. “No you won’t, but you can proceed anyway.”

“Finally.” Dean grabbed the bottle of lube and shifted his hips to be able to pour directly onto Cas’ shaft. After ensuring it was sufficiently spread out, and that he got a little payback while doing so, earning a glare, Dean repositioned himself. “Ready?”

Cas interlaced his fingers with the hand not on his shoulder. “Now I am.” 

Dean took a deep breath and slowly sunk down. His brows cinched slightly as he met Cas’ hips. Dean saw the concerned look on Cas’ face. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Dean smiled and squeezed Cas’ hand. “Yeah, it’s just been a while. Need a minute.” Possibly more than a minute. The feeling of Cas touching him so deeply, of holding his hand, of the sheer level of intimacy, it was all almost overwhelming. 

It certainly didn’t help that Cas had taken to running his hand all over him, kissing and nibbling, whispering his love into every inch of skin he could reach. “Look at you.” A graze of lips against his jaw. “Such a vision.” Teeth nipping at his neck. “Actual perfection.” Tongue tracing back up the path. “Perfect for me.” Repeat. “Devine.” Repeat. “Beautiful.” Repeat. “Mine.” Dean wasn’t sure when he started moving but he didn’t really care. Rocking his hips, tightening his grip on Cas’ shoulder, struggling to catch his breath between the river of devotion pouring over him and every stroke inside him. It was when a “Need you” ghosted past his ear that he turned, silencing the stream. 

Dean should have known things were going too well. Everything was too perfect. That he should have anticipated some curveballs. So if you were to ask him if he had been prepared to have a muscle cramp while having sex…

“Fuck!”

The answer would be no.

Hands went to cradle Dean’s squinched face. “Are you-?”

“Leg cramp.” Dean growled out. “Gimme a minute. Hurts like a bitch. It’ll pass.”

“We could-”

“I swear if you suggest stopping over a charlie horse-”

Cas, mid eyeroll, moved swiftly, flipping them so that Dean was on his back. “If you had just let me finish.” He grabbed Dean’s leg as he pushed back in with a sigh, starting to massage the tightly pulled limb. 

An embarrassing noise came at the feeling of the knot being rubbed while simultaneously having Cas move deeper inside him. Two quick snaps of hips caused a stutter. Dean caught his breath, closing his eyes while Cas focused on his calf rather than moving. The snap of a sports cap caused him to lift his head, brows furrowing. There was Cas, still buried inside Dean, thumb pressed into muscle, drinking from one of the bottles on the night table. “Are you taking a water break?”

He swallowed and held out the bottle. “No,  _ we _ are taking a water break because  _ you _ are dehydrated.” 

It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes, but he propped up on his elbows and took the bottle anyway. “What about your hip?” He asked before he tipped the water back. He hated to admit Cas was right but he was thirsty. 

“My hip has gotten sufficient rest.” Cas took the nearly empty bottle and set it back on the table. He leaned forward, wincing slightly, grabbing the headboard for support, other hand sliding from calf to thigh.

“We both know that isn’t true.”

“Dean.”

Dean raised palms off the bed and shrugged. “I’m not arguin’, I’m just sayin’.” He let out a breathy laugh when he felt the light drag against his prostate. “Got it. Shuttin’ up.” They soon found a comfortable rhythm, moving in sync with one another. No longer cramping, Dean hooked his leg behind Cas’ back, pulling him closer. A hand, in turn, wrapped around his shaft, pumping in time with their established tempo, Dean’s eyes rolling back. He snaked his arms over Cas’ shoulders, pulling him into a kiss.

Cas dipped down, separating them, to whisper in Dean’s ear. “ I love that I know just where to touch you to get you to make that face.” He let out a low moan when he felt Dean clench around him.

“This ain’t lastin’ much longer if you keep talkin’ like that.”  He peered down to watch the hand working over his cock, moaning as Cas’ thumb swiped over his head.

“Is my adoration bringing you near the edge?” He teased as he continued, giving a particularly hard thrust. Dean sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on the tender flesh. “Does it feel good, being the one prayed to?” Cas shifted, forcing Dean to look back up when he felt the other man’s forehead touch his. Cas’ hips stilled, hand slowing to pump lazily. “Hearing my song of praise? Hymns that I want to sear into your skin until you believe in your significance to my very existence?” Dean could feel his eyes welling up, thankful his lip was caught between his teeth to hide how it quivered. He didn’t trust himself to speak, worried about what could potentially slip through. “Can you feel my faith in you?” 

Leave it to a former angel to turn sex into something spiritual. He stayed there, not moving, waiting for an answer.

“Yes,” came out as a hiccup. Cas dipped for a quick peck, smiling as he pulled away. He resumed stroking Dean’s shaft, a low moan peaking through at the slight tightening around him. A whine came at Cas’ still unmoving hips. “Cas c’mon.” Dean pressed down, grinding as he pulled Cas closer with his leg.

A low chuckle bubbled in Cas’ chest. He tilted his head towards Dean’s ear. “Tell me when you’re close.”

“I will, I will, just  _ move _ .” He wasn’t begging. “ _ Please. _ ” He  _ wasn’t _ . 

Cas nipped at Dean’s neck as he started back up his movements. Dean reached one of his arms back, hand settling on the headboard, bracing, and pushing downward. 

The sound of their combined pants and moans, of skin on skin, whispered prayers, carried through the air. 

Their own private symphony. 

A pooling warmth began to settle in Dean’s lower abdomen. “Cas,” a low moan punctuated with a gasp.

Cas had made his way to Dean’s collarbone again, gently nibbling. He pulled off, gaze trailing up Dean’s flushed face. “Are you-?”

“Yeah,” came out thick and needy. Even closer seeing just how similarly ravished Cas was, a fine sheen of sweat having formed above slightly creased brows.

The corner of Cas’ mouth twitched into a sly grin. “Are you going to come for me then?” 

Three fast pumps and a flick of wrist had Dean spilling over in his hand. 

Cas kept up his rhythm, working Dean through, watching his lashes flutter and an uneven moan pass his lips. Cas slowed to a stop, releasing Dean’s cock when he heard a whine being stifled. He moved to pull out when Dean’s other leg locked around the back of his. “Dean?”

“Come in me?” Dean asked, still catching his breath. 

The answer came in the form of lips meeting his own, thrusts resuming. Cas’ hand, still dripping, gripped Dean’s hip, the other leaving the headboard to instead slide behind and wrap around his shoulder. He pulled down with each press forward, skin hitting skin with ruthless force. Dean broke them apart with low steady moans while Cas chased his release. If he had been about a decade younger, Dean was fairly certain he would have gotten hard again. His thighs shook at the feeling of warmth filling him. From Cas came a light moan, almost as soft as a sigh. The hand on Dean’s shoulder moved to caress his face, Cas slotting their mouths together briefly before pulling away. Dean attempted to follow but was stopped by a peck to his forehead. He blinked in surprise. ‘ _ Did he just?’  _

Cas carefully pulled out and Dean couldn’t help pouting a bit at the loss. He unhooked his legs from around the other man, shifting to help Cas lay beside him. He clearly overextended his hip and winced as he settled onto the bed. He smiled at Dean’s worried but still thoroughly debauched face. “Worth it.”

With a snort he pressed his head to Cas’ shoulder. “You’re ridiculous, you know that.”

Cas grabbed one of the small towels from the side table to clean them off. “And you love me still.” He mused.

Dean snatched the cloth from him. “I do. So let me do this.” He pressed a quick kiss to Cas’ cheek and got to work. A fews swipes later the towel was deposited onto the floor. Cas passed a box to Dean. He took a moment to read the label and sucked in a gasp. “You got Salonpas? Oh, you’re the best.” Dean ripped the top of the box off, eager for the lidocaine to work its magic. Before he could do that he had to snatch the Tiger Balm from Cas as he was about to twist the lid off. “Stop moving.” He dropped the box between them to open the container, dipping into the jar. He smoothed the red gel onto Cas’ hips, massaging with the tips of his fingers. He was so focused he didn’t notice Cas taking one of the Salonpas out. Dean jumped when he felt the patch being put on his shoulder. He gave Cas a look. “Really?”

Cas simply peeled the film off another one. “Seeing as I didn’t exactly need to use my pelvis to apply these, and my arms are not broken, I figured I would lend my assistance.” He laid the patch on Dean’s other shoulder. 

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head, deciding to just let it be. He rubbed the last of the balm into Cas’ skin, giving his hip a small squeeze. Dean didn’t try to object when he noticed Cas placing the heading pad behind him. “Starting to feel better?”

“Much.” Cas handed one of the patches to Dean. “For your knee.”

Once both of Dean’s knees had the Salonpas on, he would have regrets in the morning when he ripped them off, he opened a new one. “Your arms aren’t broken but I’m sure your back hurts. Where?”

Cas hesitated for a moment. “Shoulder blades.”

Dean’s brow furrowed as Cas leaned forward. He realized that he’d missed something in their shower exploration. The dim lighting of the bathroom, and the bedroom wasn’t much brighter, had hid the pink scarring on Cas’ back. “Oh.” He felt Cas tense. “Not a bad ‘oh’. Just didn’t see it earlier.” Some of the tension under his hands went away. He smoothed the patches onto Cas’ shoulders, running his fingers along the edges when he was done.

“I miss them sometimes.” Cas whispered. Dean rubbed circles with his thumbs, careful not to press too hard. “I don’t entirely miss being an angel. But I miss my wings.”

Dean placed a kiss to Cas’ cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It will always have been worth it.”

Dean held back questioning it, trying to come up with some sort of reply. “I know it isn’t the same, but you’re still my angel.” He saw a small smile starting to form. Lightbulb. He wrapped his arms around Cas, pulling him closer. “So that means they’re still there. You just can’t see them anymore ‘cause you’re human.” 

That earned him a chuckle. “I can’t feel them either. That’s probably a good thing. They were quite heavy. I would likely have ended up falling over from weight.”

It was Dean’s turn to laugh. “Like a turtle on its back?” He bit his lip and grabbed Cas’s arms, waving them in the air a bit exactly as an overturned turtle would. The noise Cas failed to repress had them both shaking and in stitches. Once they’d settled, Cas patted a hand to Dean’s cheek before shifting toward the night table. Dean leaned back and sighed as the heating pad touched his lower back. 

Cas opened a drawer and pulled out an ashtray, a lighter, and a plastic tube. He popped open the container and slid out the contents. Cas held up a very green cigar with a wooden tip. “Guilla made me this after I helped her with tending to the plants. She wants to meet you.”

“Sounds like you wouldn’t shut up about me.” Dean’s shit eating grin earned him a side eye. 

“No, I couldn’t.” Cas lifted the cigar to his mouth, flicked the lighter, and held the flame to the end while puffing to catch it alight. The lighter was placed on the night table as Cas pulled the smoke into his lungs. Earth and citrus filled the room. He pulled the cigar from his lips and held his breath, passing to Dean.

Holding onto the wood tip with his teeth, Dean shifted so that he could snuggle into Cas’ side. He rested his head against Cas’ shoulder and took a drag. A hint of orange danced on his tongue. “So much better than when I was a kid. Nearly took out my eye with a popped seed once.”

“Why were you smoking seeds?”

“It was Kansas in the 90s, Cas, it always had seeds.”

Cas took the cigar and tapped off some of the ash into the tray. “That sounds unpleasant.” He grabbed another water bottle and flipped open the cap, handing it to Dean while he took another pull.

“Very. This is nice though. Don’t feel all foggy.” Dean tipped the bottle back, once again thankful for Cas’ planning. He accepted the cigar when Cas was done and traded it for the water.

“Guilla said it was a special blend, she referred to it as a…” Cas’ eyes narrowed as he searched for the word. “Chimera?”

Dean began to choke, laughing while smoke was in the lungs was not recommended. Cas took the cigar and placed it on the night table with the ashtray. Through coughs and gasps Dean managed a, “Hybrid, Cas, it’s called a hybrid.” He happily grabbed the bottle, chugging down its contents. When it emptied he took in a few deep breaths.

“Better?”

A croaking, “Peachy,” came with a thumbs up. A new bottle as well as an opened granola bar was pressed into Dean’s hands. “I still can’t believe you brought snacks.”

“Once we were in this bed I did not plan on leaving it.” Cas took a bite out of his own treat.

Dean bit off a piece, tasting peanut butter and oats with a hint of honey. The bars were gone in a minute.They laid there together, bandaged and bruised, mildly buzzed, and completely content. And for the first time in a very long time, Dean felt a prickle of something inside him. He linked his fingers with Cas’ as it dawned on him what it was.

True and honest happiness.

~Epilogue: Two-ish Years Later~

Time passed. 

The Winchesters retired.

Sam and Eileen worked diligently to get the bunker set up as a central hub for other hunters. They digitized every page of every book, collected contact information from anyone they could find, reached out to new recruits. Sam put himself in charge of orientation for anyone that wanted to stay for an apprenticeship. Eileen held ASL classes three times a week.

Dean and Cas focused on training. They cleared out and re-arranged rooms. Gave tours when a new person came to learn the tricks of the trade. Dean found he liked giving pop quizzes, usually waiting to startle someone before asking them a question on whatever weapon or move or monster they’d recently covered. Cas was usually in the garden, explaining how to properly care for the plants and swatting anyone that got too close to his tomatoes.

It wasn’t perfect. They still fought, disagreed, got on each other's damn nerves. 

But they wouldn’t change a thing.

Before they’d left Danny street, Maura had presented Cas and Eileen with two sets of keys. “Seems Danny got Jack to do another little favor,” she had said. “Stick those in any door and you’ll be in your bedrooms here. Works both ways, too, so you don’t have to worry about getting stuck. Can’t let you folks become strangers after all that.”

Danny convinced Eileen to be co-choir director with Tay. Two days a week she stood in the booth Danny had made her, mastering conducting faster than even she expected.

Which was how Dean found himself in a button down and slacks, sitting on the bed, waiting for Cas. The Spring Recital was to start shortly. He checked his watch, leg bouncing. “Where is he?”

Cas rushed through the door. “I’m sorry, I got tied up with something.” He was thankfully already dressed.

“Well let’s not waste more time then.” Dean stood and held out his hand. Cas grabbed it as he stuck the key into their bedroom door. They stepped through to the small barn home on Danny the Street. 

They raced down the stairs, wanting to make sure they reached the concert site before it began. Dean was panicking and trying hard not to show it. The only thing helping him keep his cool was reminding himself over and over the same thing.  _ ‘ _ _ Jack believes in us.’ _

They managed to reach their seats in front just in time to slide next to Sam.

The choir stood in their red and white robes. Tay began the introduction with Eileen interpreting beside them. “Hello, everyone. We are glad to see you all here today. We’ve been working very hard to get all this set up. Our new co-director, Eileen, has been a wonderful addition and we look forward to sharing with you the ways she’s helped us improve. As singers as well as people.” They’d practiced this for weeks to make sure they were in perfect sync. 

Eileen suddenly took over speaking, Tay switching to interpreting seamlessly. “It has been an honor working with these lovely people. I hope you enjoy the show.”

The audience clapped for the two directors, eventually falling silent. Tay was in charge of the sopranos and altos, Eileen the bass and tenors. They moved side by side, their conduction being a performance all its own. Their hands waved in time with the beat of each measure, commanding crescendos or pulling back volume with the other. Song by song, they raised a symphony with a flick of a wrist. At the second to last song, they swayed their hips as they whipped an abruptly closed fist to signal a stop. The audience roared. The loudest, of course, being Sam, who spent half the performance watching the sun catch on the glittering gem perched on her finger.

Maura walked over to the center, briefly brushing Eileen’s hand. She waited to get everyone’s attention. “Thank you for coming out to see our Perpetual Choir today. For the final song we are opening up the floor for a dance. I don’t wanna see any funny business though!” That earned her a laugh from the crowd. “Yeah, I didn’t believe it when I said it either. Without further ado, I welcome our soloists: Yamaris and Aleja.”

Both performers wore tailored suits, Yamaris in red and Aleja in white, matching the choir. The floor began to fill with people as a jaunty piano tune started up. Dean and Cas stood at the same time, smiling at each other when they did. They swayed to the beat as percussion started up. Yamaris took a deep breath and began to sing.

_ She could say in her voice, in her way that she loves me _

She continued with her song as couples danced before her. Dean and Cas were lost in each other when Sam and Maura butted in. Sam whisked away Cas and replaced him with Maura in a blink. Dean looked at her, confused. “What’s-” A familiar weight slipped into his palm.

“There was a small change of plans. Don’t worry about it. Or do you think I’m that bad of a dancer?” She teased.

Dean let out a nervous laugh. “Nah, just kinda freakin out a little here.”

“Don’t be.”

“But-”

“I know things, remember?”

“You gotta stop pulling that card.”

“Never.” Maura beamed. “Looks like your lover boy is back.” 

Sam had danced themselves and Cas back over to Dean and Maura. The two were soon left alone. Aleja had taken over crooning for the masses.

_ I've been praying for you, you're my Sunday candy _

The two men stared at each other, both opening their mouths to speak at the same time.

“Oh you-”

“No it’s-”

They paused. Dean cleared his throat. “Can I?” Cas nodded. “I… You know I’m not the best with words but I’m gonna try.”

“Dean?”

“Let me just… I need to.”

“Okay.”

Dean took a deep breath. “It took me a long time, too long, to tell you what I needed to. That I-I needed you, wanted you with me. That I loved you. That I’ve loved you for so long I can’t remember not.”

“Dean-”

He barreled on. “I didn’t want to keep making that mistake. So I made sure I told you. Every single day.” He had. Every day since they’d reunited, Dean made sure Cas knew he was loved. “I’m going to keep doing that. Until we’re old, until the day we get to go live with Jack, I’m going to keep saying it.”

Cas took in a sharp breath. “Dean, I-”

“Cas, please. I have something really important to say and if I don’t let it out right now I’m going to lose my mind.” He continued before Cas could respond. “I want that. Us. I want us picking vegetables from your garden and watching movies and cooking dinner. I don’t want to spend a single day without you. I want you with me. Until the end of time, I want you with me. So I want to know something.” Dean pulled the ring from his pocket. Thin, rose gold with  _ Angel of Mine  _ etched inside.

“Dean-”

“Cas, will you-” he was cut off by a shiny bit of metal being held up to his face. A simple gold band but Dean could see the light engraving.  _ For My Honeybee. _

For the past few months both the men had been sneaking off to speak with Danny. The street listened and listened and listened to the two go on about the other, their worries, their plans. They started, with Sam, Eileen, and Maura, to form a plot. It was quite simple really. The Spring Recital was already scheduled. It didn’t take much for Danny to convince Cas and Dean, separately, to use the concert for their plans. Truth be told, Danny was a little tired of constantly getting asked the same question. “Do you think he’ll say yes?”

The music swelled as they pulled together, tears sliding past as they kissed. They didn’t even notice people watching them, cheering for them. They pressed their foreheads together and slipped on their rings.

Their lives had been tangled together since the fateful day Castiel, angel of the Lord, saved Dean Winchester from Hell. They had gone through the worst of each other, lost each other, but always found their way back again. 

They saw something they hadn’t dared dream about for such a long time. 

They saw hope. 

They saw love, affection, and patience. The sheer power their bond had, stronger than God himself. And it only grew with each passing day. 

As they looked into each other's eyes they saw eternity.

The days and nights they’d spend together. The home they built, the family they made. All the moments to be and that could be. 

It looked beautiful. It looked perfect. 

In hushed tones, they whispered along with the last lines of the show. “He could say in his voice, in his way, that he loves me.”

And he did.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic took me 2.5 months to write and has been so cathartic after the mess that was 15x20. I hoped it brought you all the tears, laughs, and joy that it did me.


End file.
